


To Live Among The Stars

by SinisterSound



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: All of the words are made up, Blindness, But it should all make sense, Fake Science, Fighting, Futuristic and primitive technology, I do not know anything about engineering, I proofread by myself, I'm sorry if this gets confusing, It’s been too long since I watched a sci-fi show, It’s crazy, Jargon, M/M, Made up space terms, Non-linear time lines, Space Explorers, Space!AU, Temporary Blindness, There’s adventure, There’s fighting, There’s loving, They’re all on a spaceship, suggestive content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-29 20:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20441876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterSound/pseuds/SinisterSound
Summary: Living among the stars sounds like an awesome way to spend your life. But there is danger among the beauty and darkness of the universe that harms as easily as it attracts.Some chose this life willingly. Other were dragged into it.None of them regret it.





	1. Blind to Danger

**Author's Note:**

> Okay!! This is another shorter-ish one~~ But I had SO much fun writing it! Someone on twitter had mentioned me doing a sci-fi concept while I was finishing up this one, so you’re in luck!!   
There’s not much deep plot, but I had a blast writing out everything, so please let me know what you think!!  
Thank you for reading and have an amazing day!!   
-SS

Sparks flew up, burning Hongjoong’s face in a hundred pin-pricks of pain.

His arms leapt up, trying to block his face from the majority of the damage as electricity surged through the panel before him. 

The screen before him was dark, cracked and ruined as the lights flickered around them- casting them into complete and semi-darkness like a heartbeat. 

The control room jerked right violently, and only his hands grasping onto the burning hot panel saved him from crashing to the ground. 

“Come on, Wooyoung,” he grit through his teeth, releasing the hot metal as soon as they righted themselves. 

“Medical Bay is out of power.” Hongjoong turned, seeing Yeosang entering into the control room, clinging to the wall. There was a tear in his coat, something blue splashed across it. “And nearly all of my medicines are shattered on the floor,” he muttered, eyes dark. “If we don’t get out of here, I’m not gonna have anything left to patch people up with.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Yeosang,” Hongjoong ground out, another round of flickering lights making his head hurt. “But we’ve got a more-” 

“Power’s just cut out in the bottom sector,” Seonghwa’s voice rushed out behind him, his pilot station sparking and crackling. “Oxygen is officially cut off.” 

Hongjoong slammed a hand on the intercom. “Keep working on that, Seonghwa-  _ Wooyoung _ !” he snapped. “We’re losing oxygen!”

“I’m getting there,” his voice came back through- staticy and garbled, but clearly annoyed. “Just keep us steady, I’m getting to the delicate-” 

“We’re in a fucking meteor rain!” Hongjoong shouted. “Seonghwa can’t keep us still if we’re getting fucking pounded from every-” 

The lights surged on to full brightness, Hongjoong’s eyes stinging. 

“ _ I fixed it _ !” He yelled, jubilant. 

“Fixed what?” Seonghwa demanded, hissing as more sparks burned his skin. 

“Everything!”

_ Boom! _

The entire ship room shook, Hongjoong catching himself on the panel once more as every light went out- only the glow and sparks of the panels before them giving them anything to see by. 

“Except that.  _ Fuck _ .” 

“Wooyoung!” 

“I’m  _ fixing  _ it!” There was enough loud clanging that Hongjoong was about to yell his name again, but there was the telltale sound of feet pounding against the grates of the engineering sector, Wooyoung audibly sprinting down the halls. 

“Woo-” 

“Oxygen is still depleting,” Seonghwa said gravely, voice bouncing as they lurched again. 

“Hey, Cap?” San’s voice called over the intercom. “Not to tell you-  _ fuck-  _ things you already know, but we’re-  _ grab the cable-  _ getting hammered-” 

“We can’t take that many more hits!” Yunho’s voice yelled, more distant. “It’s gonna break through the hull!” 

“I got that,” he snapped, switching back to Wooyoung. 

“Hyung!” Wooyoung shouted, the sound of metal being torn away screeching over the speaker. “I think I can at least get us enough juice to get out of here. Everything else-” 

“The  _ point _ , Wooyoung!” 

“ _ Fuck-  _ I  _ think  _ I can trip the breakers to reroute power to the mainframe synergy-” 

“Wooyoung-  _ can you do it _ ?”

“As long as the couplings hold-” 

“In  _ English _ !”

“ _ Yes _ !” Wooyoung snapped, metal banging and screaming as he panted. “Just keep this fucker as still as possible before I blow us up!” 

“You heard him, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong ordered, glancing over his shoulder. 

The pilot’s hands were red and blistering from the heat on the panel, but he continued pressing buttons and flipping switches, only wincing gently at each touch. 

“I’ll keep it as still as I can, but there’s nothing I can do when-” 

Another horrendous crash, and Hongjoong didn’t have time to grab the panel, body slamming to the floor without a chance to break his fall. An echoing crash was followed by Yeosang cursing violently. Only Seonghwa’s position in his chair saved him a similar fate. 

“ _ Shit- _ ”

Much quicker than before, they righted themselves, Hongjoong dragging himself up and scanning the readings in front of him as Seonghwa kept stern eyes out of the glass that separated them from infinite space. 

“Oxygen is at 75%,” Hongjoong muttered. “Wooyoung had better be able to pull another miracle out of his ass.” 

“He will,” Yeosang said seriously behind him. 

Hongjoong snorted. “I wish I had your confi-” 

“ _ Hyung, give it everything _ !” Wooyoung yelled, voice strained as if he was holding something up. “Now!” 

“Seonghwa!” he ordered. 

“Son of a bitch,” the pilot muttered, fingers flying- 

You would have thought the computers around them had exploded, sparks raining and Hongjoong throwing his hands up to block once more- 

His feet came out from under him as their ship leapt forward, throwing everyone backwards. 

Hongjoong landed hard on the ground, sliding along, his fingers digging into the spaces of the grate to hold himself still. 

“Hongjoong, I need readings!” Seonghwa’s voice came from his right. 

Cursing, Hongjoong dragged himself up, forcing his body to move against momentum, hands burning on the controls, but he peered through the darkness and sparks- 

He leaned forward, squinting at the little gauges and needles that were going haywire- 

“Stop!” 

Hongjoong was slammed forward as they went from a million miles an hour to… 

Less than that. 

His head hit the panel, a cry tearing out of his throat at the pain- 

He clutched at his eye, feeling a burning pain across it- 

“ _ Hongjoong- _ ” Yeosang’s hands were on his wrists as he sank to the ground, breathing around the pain. 

The room was a lot quieter than it had been a moment before. 

“Oxygen is back on,” Seonghwa said, voice heavy. “Power is-” 

There was the sound of energy running and systems kicking on, the power of the ship humming under Hongjoong’s feet. 

“We’re clear of the rain,” Seonghwa reported. “Power is on, and we’re getting in reports from around the ship. All life-essential systems are up and running.” 

Even through the pain, Hongjoong managed a laugh, shaky but genuine. “Wooyoung is one crazy bast-” 

It almost felt as if another meteor had hit them, the ship vibrating as a distant  _ boom  _ came through, muffled through the walls. Alarms blared. 

Hongjoong jerked his head up, heart dropping so fast, his head spun. 

“That was from engineering,” Seonghwa breathed, eyes wide. 

Yeosang was suddenly gone from Hongjoong’s side, feet slamming against the grates, gone from the room before Hongjoong had even finished slamming his hand back on the intercom. 

“Wooyoung?” he snapped, voice strong and unshakable. “Wooyoung, report!” 

All that met him was silent and the sound of static that could have been anything. He switched channels, cursing. 

“San, Jongho!” 

“We’re ali-” 

“Engineering just exploded with Wooyoung in it. Yeosang’s on his way- make sure neither of them wind up dead!” 

“ _ On it _ , cap,” came the immediate response. 

Hongjoong’s fist curled as the intercom fell silent, switching it back to engineering. Once more, there was only static. “ _ Wooyoung _ .” 

Nothing. 

Hongjoong forced himself not to panic. To not even consider the worst case scenario as he sat on the ground, blood slick under his hand that pressed over his eye. 

“Hongjoong.” 

He didn’t turn, but Seonghwa’s hands grabbed him, forcing him to face him. 

There was soot across his cheeks, little burn marks from the sparks, and his hands were covered in bright red burns. They didn’t shake where they pried Hongjoong’s hand away from his eye, and Hongjoong only fought Seonghwa for a split moment before allowing him to win. 

Seonghwa’s hand were gentle, despite his anger-hardened face, as they touched around the blood dripping. Hongjoong winced, the sting of it stupidly painful, but Seonghwa clicked his tongue in disapprovement at the movement. 

“Keep still,” he muttered, getting closer to Hongjoong’s face and examining the area. He did not relax in the least, even as he pulled away. “It looks like it missed your eye, barely. Yeosang will have to look-” 

“ _ Wooyoung _ !” 

The cry from the intercom was almost unidentifiable as Yeosang, the name coming out twisted and agonized. 

Metal slammed against each other, sounding as if it was being thrown. 

“Wooyoung!  _ Answer me- _ ” 

There was a series of sounds that were hard to follow, but then Yeosang was speaking again, breathless and strained. “Hongjoong, I need help-” 

“San and Jongho are on their way,” he responded firmly, not letting even an ounce of fear from his mouth. “What’s it looking like?” 

“He’s bad,” was all Yeosang managed, voice weak in a way that Hongjoong had never had the misfortune of hearing it. 

Hongjoong had watched Yeosang reassemble mangled bodies without batting an eye. 

“Wooyoung, I swear to God,” Yeosang muttered, almost as if he thought that Hongjoong wouldn’t hear. 

Was he crying?

“Wooyoung, open your fucking eyes before I give you enough shots to-” 

“Yeosang!” 

“Get his legs!” Yeosang ordered. “Does Medical Bay have power back?”

That was closer to the Yeosang he knew. Calm headed, even when you were bleeding out, so sure that there was nothing left of you to save. 

“It’s got power,” San assured him. “Watch his head-” 

“Holy shit,” Jongho whispered. “That’s a lot of blood-” 

“If you’re not going to to contribute something helpful, you can leave,” Yeosang snapped sharply. “If not- grab his shoulders so I can support his head-  _ don’t  _ bend that leg.” 

Hongjoong did not like the images that conjured. 

“Hongjoong,” San’s voice called. “Get Yunho and Mingi down here- we’ve got some fires pretty close to the wiring. I don’t want it-” 

“Got it,” he said, switching channels. “Mingi, Yunho, fire in engineering. Close to the wires- get your asses over there.” 

There was no response, but Hongjoong heard them running, already close, if they were within their stations. 

Hongjoong dragged himself up, the change in altitude making his head throb. 

“Where the hell are we?” he muttered, peering through one eye. 

“Somewhere near Algotha,” Seonghwa said quietly, voice still stiff from the close encounters. “Probably a couple of days from the nearest port we could do repairs from.” 

“Do we have enough power to last a couple of days?” He questioned, peering at their coordinates. Just a little too far from anywhere to be comfortable. 

“ _ Illusion  _ is already a little unreliable,” Seonghwa muttered. “She might make it to the nearest planet, provided we don’t encounter anything like solar flares or anything intense to fuck with our hull.” His lips thinned. “We’re gonna have to hope we find someone willing to trade for parts.” 

Hongjoong sighed, head hanging between his shoulder heavily. “In other words, we’re basically fucked.” He sighed roughly, fist slamming against the panel. “ _ Fucking shit _ ,” he hissed. “That meteor storm came out of fucking nowhere, how the hell-” He ran a heavy hand through his hair. “We’d be lucky to sell  _ Illusion  _ for  _ scrap  _ at this point. There’s no way-” 

A heavy hand rested between his shoulder blades, cutting Hongjoong off. 

Almost unfairly, he took a calming breath, still seething. 

“We’ve gotten out of worse spots,” Seonghwa said, voice taking on a surprising softness, despite where they were standing. “We can work it out.” 

Hongjoong didn’t look at him, staring at the little numbers that changed slowly as they drifted. “Well, I’m sorry if I don’t have your optimism-” 

All Hongjoong saw was fire and sparks leaping at his eyes. 

He felt piercing pain, his body falling backwards. Alarms started blaring. 

Hongjoong felt like his face was burning, his hands pressing against it, only making it worse- 

Much too quickly, much to gladly, he passed out, darkness dragging out the sting of pain like sucking out venom. 

~~~~~~~~

Yeosang stared at the bandages covering most of Wooyoung’s exposed skin, eyes heavy and silent. 

Beside him, Hongjoong lay silent as well, a thick strip wrapped around his eyes and smaller ones on his cheek to protect the burned skin. 

Wooyoung’s face was mostly unharmed (he was sure Wooyoung would be happy for that). 

The side thought almost made him laugh. 

And that only made him want to actually allow the pressure behind his eyes to fall. 

Yeosang sucked in a breath, standing quickly before he started falling too close to… failing. 

He checked their stats on his little screen for the hundredth time that minute, scanning them carefully. 

For the first time, Yeosang didn’t trust what his instruments were telling him. 

He’d had just enough morphine for both of them, and a little more burn ointment than he’d needed,  _ thank God _ . The glass and liquids of the broken medicine vials had been cleared away. 

Yeosang didn’t know what he would do if they didn’t have enough. 

There was a quiet knock on the metal wall, and Yeosang didn’t turn away from the readings. “What?” he questioned flatly. 

“Hello to you, too,” Seonghwa said quietly, coming in and staring at the two men who were much too still and quiet. “How’s it looking, Doc?” 

Yeosang didn’t rise to the teasing nickname. “Hongjoong will be fine. I’m…” His grip tightened on the little screen in his hand. “I’m prepared for a little bit of the worst-” 

“What the worst?” Seonghwa asked, voice dipping towards a little frantic. 

“The sparks and flames severely burned his face, but they reached his eyes some, too.” Yeosang looked away from the screen finally, sick of staring at numbers. “He may have some damage to his vision. It should be temporary, depending on…” Yeosang shook his head. “It’s all uncertain until he wakes up. I’ll keep you updated.” 

Seonghwa was quiet for a while. Yeosang gave him time to digest that. 

He was sure Seonghwa wasn’t taking this very much better than Yeosang. 

“Yunho and Mingi put the fire out,” Seonghwa said quietly. “But Yunho thinks some of the heat might have already fucked with the wiring. Several panels burst around the ship. Including the one Hongjoong was at.” 

Yeosang was almost startled to hear the barest hint of concern shining through Seonghwa’s voice. But he just nodded, taking in the information silently. 

“And Wooyoung?” Seonghwa asked, voice a little rough. “It looks like most of the burns might be superficial…” 

Yeosang wanted to crush the screen in his hands, forcing his voice to keep steady as he pointedly avoided the person in the bed. “They’re superficial, but there’s a lot of them,” he said shortly. “A piece of siding lacerated his side, and it bled a  _ lot _ . Luckily, I had enough bottles of blood unbroken to keep giving it to him until I patched it up. At the very least, he’s not going to be crawling around ductwork for a while,” he muttered. 

He needed to move. 

He turned away, setting the screen down on his desk, but not thinking of anything he could do to occupy himself. He braced his hands on the edge of the desk, squeezing it until his knuckles were white. 

“Scarring should be minimal, his blood pressure is high but unconcerning, none of the burns were deep enough to reach muscle, the metal that fell on him only fractured his shin, and I can get it healed in hours when he wakes up and can get to the regenerator-” 

Yeosang’s voice suddenly gave out without warning, and he sucked in a sharp breath, knuckles aching as he tightened his grip on the desk. His stomach churned violently. 

Seonghwa’s voice was quiet behind him. “This is the first time you’ve seen him hurt this bad…” 

Yeosang let go of a truly pitiful breath that practically rattled his chest, something almost like a laugh caught in it, even if he felt the pressure behind his eyes threaten once more. 

He couldn’t turn around. 

“He’s a dumb ass,” Yeosang spat, something fiery and hateful in his voice. “That  _ idiot  _ held the fucking transfer plates together  _ himself- _ ” 

He felt like his bones were about to fracture and snap. 

The last time Wooyoung had been hurt so badly had been the first time they met. 

Yeosang hadn’t known him then, but dear God, would he come to. 

He didn’t shake off the gentle hand that landed on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay,” Seonghwa said gently. “You’ve already done all the hard work.” 

Yeosang scoffed, shaking his head as he turned to Seonghwa with a pinched expression. “This isn’t falling from the engineering ladders or catching a hand on a sparking-” 

Yeosang’s eyes fell to Seonghwa’s side, his hands bright red and covered in a few blisters. 

Yeosang sighed harshly, taking the wrist of the hand sitting on his shoulder and removing it. “And I guarantee that you didn’t come in here for the purpose of getting your hands fixed.” 

Seonghwa chuckled gently, too fucking serene for the number of crew members unconscious beside them. 

Two out of eight, already put them at a quarter of their crew down. 

Seonghwa sat on the edge of a bed without complaint as Yeosang went through the motions of grabbing bandages and cleaner. 

“I used all the burn ointment on them,” he warned. “So yours might take a bit longer to heal if you keep treating them as roughly as you do.” 

Seonghwa grinned. “What else am I supposed to drive with?” 

Yeosang slapped his hand for being an ass. 

Burns were like currency on  _ Illusion  _ and everyone had long since stopped being concerned with them. But Yeosang still liked to treat all of them. 

That’s what he was for. 

Usually, it was Wooyoung coming in with some bruise or burn from his tinkering in engineering or his escapades where he messed with the wiring of various panels around  _ Illusion _ . He wore burns like badges of honor. 

Never like this, though. 

Yeosang focused on Seonghwa. He would have plenty of time to stare and curse Wooyoung later. 

Seonghwa sat silently. Which told Yeosang all he needed to know. 

He sighed gently, rubbing the cleanser into the sensitive skin. “Hongjoong’ll be fine,” Yeosang told him firmly. “Anything that does go wrong won’t be permanent. Any damage was only surface, and it will only take as long to heal as it takes his cells to regenerate. I can give him something to help.” 

Seonghwa hummed. “Thanks.” 

Yeosang glanced up, and Seonghwa wasn’t even looking at him, his gaze settled on the beds against the wall. 

“I guess it makes me a horrible person… being so worried for him when Wooyoung’s worse off…” 

It was almost funny. Because looking at Seonghwa, you would think him indifferent at best, or uncaring at worst. His words came out almost cold. 

But Yeosang was almost shocked by the warmth in his eyes- barely enough to be considered warmth, rather than frigid apathy- but it was  _ something _ , and that was more than Seonghwa ever allowed to be shown out among the crew. 

“Wooyoung’s got enough people to worry after him,” Yeosang said, genuine, if a bit stiff. “Hongjoong only lets you worry about him. So you can take this opportunity to be worried, even if you don’t need to be.” 

Seonghwa hummed, but Yeosang heard the stiffness to it. 

He supposed both of them needed to hold themselves together. 

Well, Seonghwa, as second-in-command (now acting Captain) technically needed to be more put together than Yeosang, who could stew in his Medical Bay and silently curse Wooyoung until he was brain dead enough to not know a syringe from a scalpel. 

Seonghwa excused himself to check on the rest of the crew, thanking Yeosang quietly. 

His eyes never left Hongjoong until he was out of the room. 

Sometimes, Yeosang wondered why the two of them ever bothered with propriety. 

His eyes fell back on Wooyoung, chest rising and falling quietly, the gentle rhythm of the screen beside his bed showing Yeosang a clear view of his heartbeat. 

He could only be impressed by their ability to keep up that front. Yeosang had already proven to be ineffective at that. 

Yeosang walked over quietly, standing beside Wooyoung, heavy eyes tracing over the bandages that he had placed, double checking each cross and tie. 

He placed a hand against Wooyoung’s chest. 

The gentle heartbeat he found provided a more solid comfort than that stupid beeping machine could ever hope to give him. 

~~~~~~~~

“And this one?” the assistant medic question, frowning in pity. 

Yeosang glanced up from the chart, observing the young man whose chest was wrapped completely. He hummed. “That one was a dodgy one. Seven hours in the OR, and a chest  _ full  _ of shrapnel.” 

“Jung,” the assistant read off the chart, frowning. “Oh, this is that one Lee was talking about who flatlined four times?” 

Yeosang nodded slowly, staring at the unconscious man. In all honesty, he had to be impressed. He had rarely seen anyone wind up here that wanted to live so badly. 

Most people were glad to give up. 

“He looks young,” she noted. “Do you know what he did to wind up here? He doesn’t really seem the isolated prison type.” 

Yeosang shrugged. “Probably pissed off the wrong guard on some colony. That’s what most kids are doing here.” He scanned the file. “It just says ‘Disruptive Misconduct’. Considering I was pulling out hull bedding chunks from his chest, I guess he might have had an accident involving a ship. Maybe he was stealing junk scraps.” 

She shrugged, humming indifferently. “Hope he doesn’t wind up back here too quickly. He seems like the kind the people here would  _ eat up _ .” 

She left before Yeosang could give his disagreement. 

He had spent seven hours getting well acquainted with this guy’s body. He had been tearing pieces of metal out as the man’s heart gave out again and again- 

And it kept starting back up. Kept beating. Kept fighting. 

If anything, Yeosang had a sinking feeling this Jung Wooyoung would be sending guys to them more often than not. 

He stood beside the bed, checking his vitals and recording them at the proper time- 

“Holy shit.” 

Yeosang looked down quickly, startled, and found soft grey eyes staring up at him. 

A morphine-induced grin worked across his lips. “Are you an angel?” 

Yeosang sputtered, taken aback, startled, surprised, shocked, blind-sided- 

Wooyoung chuckled, blinking slowly, never tearing his eyes away from Yeosang. “Am I alive?” 

Yeosang coughed, clearing away the shock. “Yes,” he said firmly, resuming his note taking.

He chuckled weakly, coughing. “That guard really blew up the whole fucking scrap pile just for one battery cell-“ 

“You were brought in with multiple punctures of shrapnel, one piece nearly puncturing your lung,” Yeosang went on, not really caring how he got here. “It missed by centimeters. We were able to-” 

“What day is it?” Wooyoung asked, voice a little slurred from the pain meds. 

Yeosang frowned, confused by the sudden interruption. “Monday. The 64th.” 

Wooyoung relaxed a little. “Okay, good. I’ve got time.” 

And then he was unconscious again. 

And every day, Yeosang walked through the short (or long) line of recovering patients, taking note of their stats and recording it. Most glared at him or ignored him completely. 

Not Jung Wooyoung. 

“What day is it?” was the first question out of his mouth every time, without fail, despite the fact that he always asked it only a day after Yeosang told him the first time. 

And each time he answered, Wooyoung would only nod, as if he had suspected as much, and muttered something about still having time. 

“Time until what?” Yeosang questioned after three days of this. 

Wooyoung smiled genuinely as he sat up in the bed. The regenerator fixed his muscles quickly, but it tended to make people lightheaded and weakened. Wooyoung grinned on, despite this. “I’m meeting some people,” was all he said. 

And, it was true, he supposed. In a couple of days, Wooyoung could be released into the prison, where Yeosang would only see him if he came back with a few broken ribs or a black eye. 

“Have you ever traveled in the stars?” Wooyoung asked when Yeosang stopped by his bed. 

Yeosang glanced down at him. “We’re on a spaceship,” he answered flatly. 

“We’re on a  _ satellite _ ,” Wooyoung scoffed. “It goes around the planet and never moves. Have you ever even been to light speed?” 

“I’m a medic.” 

Wooyoung snorted. “So? You became a medic, and you’re just sitting in one spot? You went through the trouble of making it into space, but you’re not even a  _ little  _ eager to check it out?” He almost looked pitying. “Have you ever warped through the heart of a fucking  _ star _ ?”

Yeosang lifted an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“Fuck yeah!” Wooyoung burst, looking far too excited, grinning with the force of a star himself. “Seonghwa made that star his  _ bitch _ .” 

Yeosang’s chest most definitely did  _ not  _ do a thing. 

“And how, exactly, did you not burn in an instant?” Yeosang questioned, resting the screen on his hip, looking at Wooyoung expectantly. 

The patient looked ready to burst like a balloon, but when he spoke it came out a rushed, excited whisper. “I outfitted  _ Illusion  _ with reflector panels from Hynthaz.” 

Yeosang’s eyes did widen a bit at that. “You’ve been to Hynthaz? That planets been cut off from the Alliance.” 

Wooyoung nodded smugly. “It’s been abandoned. But that means there’s no security to stop you from running through all those old tech cities. I got a cooling system from an abandoned factory there, too.” 

“I thought animals were running wild there.” 

“They are!” Wooyoung assured him, eyes sparkling. “I’m serious- these cat things were the size of  _ elephants _ .”

Yeosang frowned. “You’re lying,” he said, something settling in his stomach. 

“I swear!” Wooyoung scoffed, looking offended. “Jongho wrestled one-” 

“Yeah, right,” Yeosang sighed, shaking his head. 

He couldn’t believe he had almost bought into this. He could only trust Wooyoung as far as his next pain med administration. He started walking away, and rather than snapping at him, Wooyoung only laughed. 

“You’ll see,” was all he said. 

It sent a little chill down Yeosang’s spine. 

Yeosang was just finishing doing night rounds when it happened. 

He was putting away the screen in his office when he heard bare feet slapping against the floor. 

Frowning, he set the screen down, rushing out into the ward. 

In the light of the stat boards, he very clearly saw Wooyoung raced through the door. 

To this day, Yeosang didn’t know why, but he didn’t hit any alarms. Simply ran after Wooyoung silently. 

Followed him down the hall. Around the corner. Down the stairs. 

Wooyoung ran towards the hangar doors. 

Yeosang suddenly saw the glaring issue with not having immediate guards in the medical wards. 

Yeosang rushed in after him, and Wooyoung suddenly turned, grinning wildly. 

“You came.” 

Yeosang jerked to a stop, startled at being suddenly addressed, staring at Wooyoung blankly. 

All of Wooyoung’s teeth were visible. “You’ve never seen the stars,” he said glancing out of the glass wall between them and the hangar holding the emergency transport vehicles. “Do you want to?” 

Yeosang felt like someone was squeezing his heart in their fist. 

Wooyoung stared at him, unbothered. “I can prove it,” He said firmly. “All the stories I told you. I can prove them.” 

Yeosang’s lungs had stopped working. 

And through the glass, he saw the hangar doors open. His eyes snapped up, seeing a beat up seeming D Class ship flying in. 

Wooyoung whipped around. “ _ Yes _ ,” he hissed, racing past Yeosang and down the stairs to the entrance lock to the hangar. 

Once more, Yeosang followed without thinking. “Wooyoung!” he called. 

“No time,” Wooyoung said, waiting at the airlock door. “It’s an unauthorized entry, so we’ve only got a few minutes.” 

The light beside the door changed from a burning red to a bright green, and Wooyoung shoved it open, racing across the deck. 

Why was Yeosang not tackling him and holding him down for the guards? 

The entry ramp lowered from the D Class, and as they got closer, Yeosang made out a faint, chipped script on the side. 

_ Illusion.  _

“Wooyoung!” He snatched his wrist finally, twenty feet from the foot of the ramp. 

Wooyoung turned back, looking a little surprised, but then his other hand was coming up, wrapping around Yeosang’s. 

“Do you want to see the stars?” he demanded. “Because you’ve got thirty seconds to decide.” 

Yeosang’s eyes shook as they scanned Wooyoung’s face. His mind raged silently, giving him no actual help and just a static in his brain that told him  _ nothing- _

“We’ve been looking for a good medic,” Wooyoung said, as if it were an incentive. His smile was blinding. “Most of us can barely tie a bandage.” His grip tightened on Yeosang, as if silently begging him to come. 

Why?

Why would Wooyoung want him to come so badly? 

“Come on, Yeosang,” Wooyoung hissed. “This place is too fucking small for you.” 

Yeosang had never thought so. 

Not once. 

He had been stationed here, and he had silently fallen into place, and he followed his directions and he fixed up a bunch of thieves and murderers… 

And he never questioned it. Never wanted or dreamed of more. 

Until Wooyoung had talked about driving through the heart of stars and outrunning solar flares. 

“Put a goldfish in a lake, and it’ll grow to be a whale,” Wooyoung pushed. “You’re a goldfish, Yeosang, same as I was.” 

“Wooyoung!” A sharp voice called from within the ship. 

Wooyoung jerked his head towards it, and then back to Yeosang. 

When Wooyoung slowly began pulling toward the ship, almost as if afraid of hurting Yeosang if he moved too quickly…. Yeosang didn’t fight. 

He let Wooyoung pull him, like a satellite caught in an orbit. 

And before Yeosang could even register the shouting of the guards arriving, the ramp was closing behind them, Yeosang being shoved into a seat just in time for the ship to take off much too quickly to be an authorized speed for inside a hangar. 

“Lose them, Seonghwa!” A foreign voice yelled into a speaker on the wall. 

Yeosang clung to the seat, eyes clenching shut as the ship shuddered and shook as if it were about to break apart. It stayed like that for several seconds before cutting off suddenly. 

Yeosang cracked his eyes open, and the stranger was already getting out of his little seat, walking back to the speak on the wall. 

“Seonghwa?” he demanded as Wooyoung practically giggled in his seat, turning to Yeosang as if he had just presented him with a large candy sucker. 

“Out of their range and getting further,” a voice responded, clipped and professional. “Wooyoung?”

“Present and alive,” the stranger informed him. He glanced back at Yeosang, making Yeosang feel like the specimens he had dissected back at school. “And he brought a Plus One.” 

“Oooh,” the voice said, almost sounding snarky. “Can’t wait to hear about that one.” 

“Keep us heading as far from here as possible.” 

“Aye, Captain.” 

Wooyoung snickered at the title, and Yeosang almost wondered if the petite man wasn’t actually the captain, but when he turned back to Yeosang, he was absolutely positive this was a man who held  _ some  _ sort of power. 

He crossed his arms over a deep red leather jacket that was almost as fiery as his hair. “Well?” He asked, glaring at Wooyoung. “You want to explain how you went to a high station prison and came back with a friend?” 

Wooyoung stood, gesturing to Yeosang as if he were a show-and-tell item. “Hongjoong, this is Yeosang, the guy who dug all that Gordian scrap metal out of me.” 

Hongjoong- Captain?- appraised him, eyes roaming over Yeosang and landing on the pin at his chest. He hummed. “Medic,” he said, intrigued. 

“You said we needed one!” Wooyoung said, looking proud. 

“I didn’t expect you to go shopping for one while in prison,” Hongjoong admitted, but something in his expression almost softened. “You work well under pressure?” 

Yeosang stood, even if he wasn’t sure why. He nodded slowly, stiffening up a bit to try for a show of confidence, rather than hoping the man before him didn’t throw him out of an airlock. “I’m a medic,” he answered. What sort of medic would he be if he didn’t? 

“You ever done anything while under fire?” Hongjoong challenged. 

“I work in a prison,” Yeosang said, feeling a little more comfortable as he lifted his chin. “I’ve dug a tooth out of a man while he was choke holding his cellmate.” 

And like a glass shattering on the ground, Hongjoong’s stoic expression split into a grin that lit his eyes bright and clear. “Nice,” he said, nodding in appreciation. “I think you might have gotten us a good one, Wooyoung.” 

“I know how to pick ‘em,” Wooyoung said, looking pleased. “I knew his face was too pretty to be useless.” 

Yeosang choked a little as Hongjoong smacked the other, rolling his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, walking up to Yeosang and sticking a hand out. “Welcome aboard  _ Illusion _ , Yeosang.” 

When Yeosang took his small hand, he was met with surprising strength gripping his own. 

Hongjoong’s glinting eyes were almost dangerous. “It’s good to have someone who finally knows what they’re doing. Betray anyone on this ship, and your body will be tossed out an airlock so fast, you won’t even remember what it meant to be alive.” 

Yeosang froze, blood turning icy as Hongjoong released his hand. 

Wooyoung slid up beside him as Hongjoong climbed the ladder out of the little room. He bumped Yeosang’s shoulder. “He’s not kidding,” Wooyoung assured him, snickering. “But don’t worry. You won’t betray us.” 

“How do you know?” Yeosang questioned sharply, frowning at him. “You’ve literally known me a week. We’ve never talked, all you did was drag me into this ship without even saying-” 

“Because there’s no way you didn’t know that something was funky with me,” Wooyoung broke in, expression a little more sober, a little more mature than Yeosang had ever seen. “There’s no way you didn’t see me running. You chased me yourself without alerting a single guard. You made your decision, even if you didn’t know. You’re like any one of us, Yeosang.” 

“And what are you like?” Yeosang demanded skeptically, ignoring his previous accusations. “What, exactly, am I?  _ Aside  _ from a goldish, apparently.” 

Wooyoung laughed, backing away from Yeosang with his hands behind his back as he moved towards the ladder. “You’re  _ dying  _ for something more. But you were a prisoner to the  _ worst _ warden.” He shrugged. “Yourself. But you broke out now. Which means you’re free.” 

Wooyoung practically bounced around, sticking his feet in the rungs of the ladder. “Come on,” he said, glancing down. “I’ll show you the Medical Bay.” 

Yeosang stared at him, mouth gaping. 

He had never thought of himself as trapped. 

But here he was, now a fugitive on a broken down ship that was going God knows where, with a man he had followed despite everything telling him not to. 

He’d never felt trapped, but in this moment, he supposed this is what freedom felt like. 

He moved without thought, climbing up after Wooyoung. 

He was here. Might as well get used to it. 

“Why is it called  _ Illusion _ ?” Yeosang questioned as they reached a brightly lit hallway, his eyes tracing the bulkheads. 

The inside looked a lot better than the outside. 

Wooyoung looked delighted at the question. “A few reasons. For one, I’ve outfitted her with cloaking from Tremont.” 

“Those people are enemies of the Alliance!” Yeosang burst, heart stopping. 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung said excitedly. “Alliance ships can’t pick up a ship under that cloaking, so they’re pissed. But I figured out how to hardwire it to our software.” 

Wooyoung was probably the craziest bastard Yeosang had ever met. 

“Another reason, less obvious, was that this ship was a piece of junk when Hongjoong first got it off the ground.” He knocked a knuckle against the metal wall, listening to it clang. 

His expression was fond. Almost a little nostalgic. Softer and more genuine. 

Yeosang’s tongue was heavy in his mouth. 

Wooyoung placed a hand against the smooth metal. “People think she’s gonna fall apart at any moment. That they won’t have to go more than half-Warp speed and they’ll overtake her.” He turned to Yeosang, smiling fondly. “But this baby’s outside is nothing compared to the crew inside of her.” 

Yeosang’s throat felt a little dry. 

“They can laugh at her beat up outside all they want. Because the crew inside of her have been pushing this baby for years, and she keeps giving. She’s got more inside of her than anyone would ever assume from her outside.” 

He snorted boisterously. 

“It’s so fucking funny to watch people’s jaws drops as this rickety D Class kicks their ass. She’s got spunk from the crew Hongjoong got for her.” 

_ Illusion _ . 

More than meets the eye. 

Things hiding in plain sight. 

Sleight of hand and smoke and mirrors. Redirects and attention-grabbers. 

All for the purpose of shocking you at the end of it all. 

Yeosang’s lips twitched despite himself. “Sounds pretty poetic.” 

Wooyoung barked a laugh. “Yeah, Hongjoong is emo about that sort of shit. Now, let’s go.” 

Yeosang followed Wooyoung along the ship that would become Yeosang’s home for the next three years. 

He never even thought about that satellite that had pinned him in one place- an invisible prison he hadn’t even been aware of until he was racing through a solar flare, Wooyoung cackling like a mad man as he raced around engineering with Yunho yelling for him to just get the fucking sheilds back up. 

~~~~~~~

Hongjoong let go of a shaking breath. 

“Okay,” he answered, voice weak but trying so hard not to waver. “So I’m blind for now.” 

“It’s only temporary,” Yeosang assured him for the tenth time, patient and calm. “I’m going to give you some pills and ointment to help regenerate the cells faster. It should last a couple of weeks at most.” 

“A couple of weeks,” Hongjoong said, voice flat, half of his expression hidden behind the bandages wrapped firmly around his eyes. His head tilted this way and that, as if desperately trying to compensate for the lost sense. “How am I supposed to captain a ship if I can’t see?” he demanded stiffly. 

“Hongjoong, you’ve never captained with your eyes,” Seonghwa assured him calmly. “We can assign Yunho or San or someone to be with you at your station, but everything important about your job has always come from you leading. And you don’t need to see to do that.” 

Hongjoong’s knuckles were white around the blanket, shaking a little. “Right,” he said quietly.

Seonghwa pressed his lips together to keep from speaking. 

He clenched his fists to keep from moving. 

Yeosang was quiet for a moment, observing Hongjoong, glancing at Seonghwa, and nodding in understanding. “Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ve given Seonghwa the pills for the regeneration and an ointment to help with the irritation. There’s not much, so only try to use it when it’s bothering you. You can take the bandages off, or keep them on if it makes you more comfortable. Any questions?” 

Ever the captain, Hongjoong swallowed, tilting his head towards where he had been told Wooyoung was still laying. “He hasn’t woken up at all?” 

“It’s only been a day,” Yeosang said, Seonghwa offering a sympathetic gaze but Yeosang didn’t even glance his way, resolute and firm with his voice. “I expect him to wake up sometime tomorrow, but I’m not concerned right now. He’s on a lot of pain meds.” 

Saying he wasn’t concerned was a lie. 

But Seonghwa remained silent. 

“You’re both free to go if you have no other questions. Let me know if the pain gets worse, or if you’re having trouble sleeping because of it.” 

There was a moment where Hongjoong seemed to be gathering strength as he nodded. He pushed the blankets back off of his feet, hands dragging along the bed to find the edge and support himself as he swung his legs off slowly. 

Seonghwa stood, stepping over and taking Hongjoong’s wandering hand gently. 

Hongjoong stiffened slightly, but Seonghwa simply took his other one as well. “I’ll get your back to our quarters.” 

Hongjoong’s lips thinned, but once more, it was hard to read his exact emotions without being able to see his eyes. “Sure,” he said, voice sticky and tugging. 

Seonghwa guided him to his feet, keeping a hold on him. Hongjoong didn’t lean into his hands, but Seonghwa could feel the twitches in his hands he shifted to follow Seonghwa’s subtle directions. 

“Thank you, Yeosang,” Seonghwa said as they made their way towards the door. 

“Don’t strain yourself,” He said firmly, glaring a little at Hongjoong. “You’re not going back in the control room until tomorrow, understand?”

“I’ll keep him in one place,” Seonghwa assured him, nodding his thanks again, the medicine and ointment heavy in his pocket. 

The shuffle back to their quarters was slow going and silent, save for Seonghwa’s quiet prompts of “Step up.” “Low bar.” “Watch your arm.” 

When Seonghwa finally had Hongjoong stepping through into their quarters, he felt a sigh of relief in his lungs. It wasn’t  _ hard _ , but it was clear that Hongjoong was not quite so quick without his sight. 

The door swung closed behind him, and Seonghwa lowered their hands, even if he didn’t let go. 

“There,” he said quietly, warmth bleeding into his voice. “Made it.” 

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched and flexed, tongue darting out to wet his lips, head tilting around the room, as if searching for a sound to follow or orient with. 

His hands began to pull out of Seonghwa’s slowly. “We’re going to need to tell Yunho to be watching our radar at all times,” He said, voice rough and stern. “I want Mingi to double check every fire safety feature in  _ Illusion _ , and San needs to start plotting the shortest distance we can get-” 

Seonghwa’s hands caught Hongjoong’s face gently, holding him in a barely-there touch that Hongjoong stiffened at for a moment, breath sucking in sharply. 

Seonghwa could feel the tense muscle and stiff propriety clinging to his frame, jaw tight and lips stiff. He dragged his eyes over Hongjoong’s face, expression pinching ever so slightly at the visible, small patches of burns. 

He very carefully dragged a thumb across his cheek. “Hongjoong, leave the captain in the control room,” he whispered, filling the space between the two of them. “This isn’t the place for him.” 

Hongjoong swallowed audibly, a hand coming up slowly… hesitantly… groping for only a moment before touching Seonghwa’s arm. He squeezed it carefully, trailing up until his fingers circled Seonghwa’s wrist. And then followed it until Hongjoong’s hand rested on top of his. 

He felt his jaw flex, but then a sharp breath was being released, and Seonghwa could physically feel the weight of command bleed from him. His shoulders fell, his spine bending, and his face relaxing as the weight of all eyes on him and the lives of eight individuals fell from his shoulders. 

Here, in the privacy of their quarters, they were able to free themselves of their responsibilities of the ship. And only here. 

Within these four walls, they were free to act as they pleased. However, the moment they exited that door, they were a captain and a pilot whose crew placed their lives in their hands fearlessly. 

What they were within these quarters had no place in a situation where a moment made the distinction between the crew living and dying. 

In that control room, Seonghwa could not allow his heart to twist as Hongjoong- usually so confident in everything he did- touched hesitantly and gently, as if scared of what he might touch without knowing it was there. 

Seonghwa could not allow his concern to bleed into his decisions. 

Hongjoong could not allow his fear or pain to taint his leadership. He could not allow anything that happened- even the loss of his sight- to corrupt even a single decision that held all their lives. 

But, they had decided, that for a few hours… even just a few moments… within the walls of these quarters, they could shed those duties. 

(At least until the intercom would burst to life, claiming some attack or issue.) 

So, Seonghwa felt the captain bleed from Hongjoong, his hand squeezing Seonghwa’s tightly, mouth twisting just a little. 

Seonghwa swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Talk to me,” he said quietly. “What are you feeling?”

Because Hongjoong the Captain was not allowed to feel. Not when his crew was in danger, not when he was responsible for each and every one of them. 

But Seonghwa’s Hongjoong could cry and beat and scream all he liked. 

Hongjoong swallowed, breath a little shaky. His other hand came up and touched the bandages around his eyes. “I feel… like I’m standing on an edge, not knowing how far I am from falling over the edge.” He felt the bandage gently. “I hate this,” He admitted, voice low and angry. “I hate that it was caused by something so stupid, something that wasn’t even anyone’s fault. I can’t even feel bad about it- Wooyoung did what he needed to save the ship, I can’t fault him for the aftermath of that or what it caused-” 

He sighed roughly, shaking his head, but not dislodging Seonghwa’s hands gently stroking over the curve of his cheek. 

“How the hell am I supposed to operate like this?” he demanded, stiffening again. “How the hell do I lead a ship for two weeks when I can’t  _ see _ , Seonghwa? I can’t see, I can’t even-” 

There was a sharp breath that sounded too close to panicking, and Seonghwa hushed him gently, brushing hair away from his forehead, Hongjoong’s hand coming and groping until it gripped at Seonghwa’s bicep, voice coming out tight and fast. 

“Can you take the bandage off?” he asked, trying for calm but still tinged desperate. “Please, Seonghwa, I need to get this thing off, I can’t fucking-” 

He brought his own hand up to the bandage, and Seonghwa caught it gently before he hurt himself. “Wait just a minute,” he soothed. “I’m taking it off, Hongjoong.” 

Hongjoong sucked in tense, stiff breaths as Seonghwa deftly undid the bandage, unwrapping from around Hongjoong’s eyes as he tried to keep his breathing even. 

“It’s coming off,” he promised quietly, intent on his work. “Just stay calm, you’re okay, Hongjoong, I’m right here-” 

The last piece of bandage fell away from his eyes, and Seonghwa instinctively caught Hongjoong’s hands that leapt towards the exposed area. 

He held them firmly. “Gently,” Seonghwa whispered. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

Hongjoong nodded slowly, letting go of a breath that seemed to calm him a little. 

Seonghwa released his hands, allowing him to touch the sensitive skin. 

There was no horrible scarring. Just a few unpleasant burns, and a dozen tiny spots where sparks had hit. His eyes were closed, a few marks visible over his eyelids and around the creases of his eyelids. 

Hongjoong’s fingers touched gently, wincing at a few spots. 

He didn’t look terribly harmed, but his eyes fluttered open, thick and slow, as if he was blinking away sleep. 

Hongjoong’s eyes were bloodshot, too red and sensitive, but Yeosang assured them he was okay to open them. 

Hongjoong, however, sucked in a panicked breath, hands reaching for Seonghwa blindly. 

His eyes weren’t quite focused on anything, staring blankly as Seonghwa caught his hands firmly. “Seonghwa,” Hongjoong breathed, expression twisting. “Seonghwa, I can’t see-” 

Not seeing with a bandage surely felt different than not seeing with your eyes wide open. 

Seonghwa hushed him, heart aching as he rubbed Hongjoong’s hands, trailing up his arms soothingly. 

The first tears fell, and Seonghwa gingerly brushed them away as Hongjoong hissed as they stung the wounds. 

“I can’t see,” He whispered, and Seonghwa pulled him a little closer, letting him feel the proximity. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered between them, hands tailing, touching any part of Hongjoong that he could. “You’re going to get it back, Hongjoong. It’s going to take time, but you’ll see again.” 

Hongjoong closed his eyes again, breathing deeply, Seonghwa murmuring comforts as he struggled to get himself to calm down. He grabbed Seonghwa’s arm, pulling him forward until he was pressed against him, arms wrapping around him tightly, as if Seonghwa was the only thing keeping him from floating away. 

“I-” Hongjoong breathed a little too quickly. “I… I can’t… I can’t feel anything but you, I- I don’t- I can’t figure out where anything is-” 

Seonghwa hushed him again, shifting until he had Hongjoong pressed against him and one of Hongjoong’s wrist surrounded by his fingers gently. “Come on,” he said quietly. “I’ll show you. It’s just our quarters, Hongjoong, it’s all the same way we left it.” 

Seonghwa guided him around the room, placing Hongjoong’s hand on every item of furniture, stating what it was. Hongjoong continued to keep his eyes closed, as if they were playing some game to try and recognize where he was. 

“And the bed,” Seonghwa ended, dragging Hongjoong’s hand over the rough blanket and stiff pillow. 

Hongjoong swallowed, nodding slowly. “Okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “Okay, I… I got it.” 

“What else do you need?” Seonghwa asked, shifting until they were chest to chest. He stroked down Hongjoong’s cheek gently. “What do you need me to do?” 

Hongjoong wet his lips, eyelids twitching as his eyes moved beneath them. 

“Get my sight back.” 

It was bitter. It was impatient. But it was not a sleight against Seonghwa, who simply nodded. 

“I would in an instant, Hongjoong.” 

His shoulders dropped, tired and spent. “I know,” he whispered. “I think… you’re going to find me very difficult to deal with for now…” 

Seonghwa brushed his cheek, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Hongjoong’s forehead, feeling the way he shifted at the unexpected touch, but he simply sighed, leaning into Seonghwa. 

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa assured him quietly. “Are you tired?” 

Hongjoong considered it for a moment. “I’m… honestly a little afraid to sleep,” he admitted. 

Seonghwa ran his fingers through his hair gently, chest aching with helplessness. “I’ll be right beside you,” he promised. “We can do whatever you want, Hongjoong. Just tell me whatever it is you need.” 

Seonghwa hated this. Hated the uncertainty in Hongjoong’s expression, the indecisiveness of his movements. 

Hongjoong was always confident. Even when he within these walls and letting himself break apart at the seams, he was never this lost within himself.  _ Illusion  _ had been their home for years, Hongjoong should never act so lost within her hull. 

Hongjoong slowly retracted himself from Seonghwa’s hold, hands wandering at this sides until his fingers brushed the footboard at the bottom of the bed. He grabbed onto it, like finally snatch at a rock while drifting down a river. 

“Okay,” he said, walking with a little more comfort with the line of the bed to guide him. He reached the top and climbed on, feeling with his legs to tell where he was. He reached out his hands. “Come on.” 

Seonghwa moved without question, pulling out the ointment and pills that Yeosang had given him. 

He sat on the opposite side of the bed, taking Hongjoong’s hand and guiding him to face him. He pressed the pill into his hand and unscrewed the ointment. 

Hongjoong was still and silent as he gently spread the cream around his eyes, covering each of the tiny burns. When he was finished, Hongjoong’s hand looped through his as he carefully laid down, settling against the pillow hesitantly, and then fully when he was sure where he was. 

Seonghwa laid down beside him. Hongjoong used his hand to tug Seonghwa closer until Hongjoong’s face was pressed to his chest, Seonghwa’s arms encasing him completely, leaving no part of him to wander in darkness. 

Hongjoong relaxed a little. “This…” His hands fisted the front of Seonghwa’s shirt. “God, it so fucking weird to open my eyes and not see anything. It’s creepy, it just…” 

“Just pretend the room is pitch black,” Seonghwa murmured, rubbing his back. “You’ve found your way around the ship in a power outage before. It’s the exact same.” 

Hongjoong swallowed thickly. “Yeah… I guess so.” 

He let go of a tiny, shaky breath, hand creeping up Seonghwa’s chest, finding his face and dragging over his cheek-

Down his neck, over his shoulder, across his waist, brushing his back, and finding his hip and legs… Hongjoong nodded to himself, bringing his hand back in. 

Seonghwa’s chest slowly tightened until it felt like he couldn’t draw breath. “You scared the shit out of me, Hongjoong,” he whispered, taking a calm breath. 

He was calm now, but the moment flames exploded and Hongjoong was falling back, a scream in his throat… Seonghwa had been decidedly less calm. 

That was one of a very few number of times when he had broken their facade of indifference while performing their duties. 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong said simply. “I know.” 

Because it didn’t matter how Seonghwa perfected his apathy, Hongjoong could read him as easily as the dials and gauges he spent hours in front of, gleaning every piece of information with just a passing glance. 

Seonghwa hadn’t known what to do. Hongjoong was writhing on the ground in pain and Seonghwa had been desperately trying to drag him away from the flaming console, trying to pull his hands away to see the injury- 

And then Hongjoong fell so silent, Seonghwa very nearly lost all hope of composure. 

Unlike Yeosang and Wooyoung, Seonghwa was a little more used to seeing Hongjoong injured, but it truly never got any easier. Even for as long as they had known each other. 

~~~~~~~~

“You’re Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa looked up from the screen in his hands, frowning at a short, petite man in beat up leathers grinning at him. 

He had never seen the man before in his life. And despite the worn and weathered look of his clothing and the roughness to his hastily-chopped hair, his face was quite pretty- looking slightly out of place among the dirty clothing. 

Seonghwa brought his eyes up from his dusty boots to a pair of eyes glinting with a light Seonghwa had only ever seen in the Medical Field when the students got a brand new specimen to dissect. 

“Who’s asking?” he questioned politely, if a bit withdrawn. 

The man looked like a ruffian. 

But he grinned easily, holding out a soot covered hand. “Hongjoong.” 

Seonghwa took it, feeling rough calluses and grime covering the dainty fingers. “Pleasure to meet you… but you seem to already know me.” Seonghwa wasn’t too put off. Lots of people recognized him, if they were from the area. 

Hongjoong chuckled. “Who doesn’t know the man who graduated with a 700 on the Pilot Sim? I’m pretty sure they broadcasted your graduation across the country.” 

Seonghwa didn’t think it was quite that far, but it was pretty close. “So, you’re a fan of piloting?” Seonghwa questioned. 

That’s what most people were. Young kids or even adults who said they had inspired him. 

Hongjoong shrugged, though. “Eh,” he muttered. “I can fly my way around a solar system, but nothing so fancy as what you were doing.”

“It’s not so hard,” Seonghwa assured him. “I just liked it, so it never felt like practicing.” 

Hongjoong’s glint in his eyes grew. “So, you graduated from the Civilian pilots?” he asked in a way that said he already knew the answer. “Not a fan of going into military? Don’t fancy getting shot at?” he chuckled. 

Seonghwa hummed, shrugging one shoulder. “Nothing against them. Or the adventure that comes with it. I just didn’t think to go into it when I came into the academy, and I didn’t feel like changing halfway through.”

Hongjoong looked positively  _ delighted _ . Seonghwa was beginning to think that he wanted something. But there didn’t seem to be anything off-putting or dangerous about him… he looked excited, so maybe he  _ was  _ someone who took inspiration from Seonghwa? 

Hongjoong appeared to be trying for casual, though. He nodded slowly. “So, now that you’ve graduated… I mean, you’re in the Civilians, so you’ll probably be putting all that talent into flying some high class cargo from system to system, right?” 

The way he said it made Seonghwa frown, tucking his screen beneath his arm as his eyes narrowed. “I suppose,” he answered honestly. “Not much use for Civilian pilots other than cargo and transport.” 

“For someone who got a 700 on the Pilot Sim.” Hongjoong actually clicked his tongue, shaking his head almost in disappointment. 

Seonghwa’s frown turned more into a glare. “Is there a problem with that?” 

What was wrong with that? Just because Seonghwa scored so well doesn’t mean he needed to go try and become a fucking Military ship or something. 

Hongjoong just smiled, like he was so glad that Seonghwa asked that. “No one does that well on a Pilot Sim unless they want a challenge.” He began to back away from Seonghwa, practically beaming. “Want to see something that’ll  _ really  _ challenge you?”

And with that, Hongjoong turned on his heel, marching away through the few people milling around the hangar, not even glancing back to see if Seonghwa followed. 

Seonghwa stared after him, mouth open. 

Who the hell did this person think he was? Coming up to Seonghwa and picking apart his career choices as if he was someone who mattered? It wasn’t as if Seonghwa was dissatisfied or anything. He loved piloting, any part of it- including driving a cargo ship through predetermined routes that were well guarded and clear for the safety of him and the cargo-

Hongjoong disappeared behind a line of people, and Seonghwa cursed, rushing forward. 

He dodged people, staring over their heads, and Hongjoong’s dusty jacket stood out like a sore thumb among the rigid uniforms of the pilots and workers of the hangar. 

He dodged a cart carrying oxygen tanks, rushing after Hongjoong and coming up behind him-

Hongjoong suddenly stopped, almost causing Seonghwa to bump into him. 

He turned, not looking surprised to see Seonghwa following him at all, grinning as he casted a hand forward. “What do you think?” 

Seonghwa stared at him for a moment, heart beating out of his chest for some reason, turning to look at whatever ship Hongjoong was presenting to him. 

He expected a highly complex system, not quite out of testing yet. Maybe a foreign mechanics, like Hydronian or Ripton, not…. 

“I looks like a junk heap.” 

It was a beat up D Class that was only identifiable as such because of the shape of the thrusters that looked like they were made up of sixteen different ship parts. It was small- probably only needing a crew of ten or less. It was dwarfed compared to the giant cruisers around it, but most importantly- 

“How did you even fly that thing in here?” Seonghwa demanded, walking up a little closer to observe the rust clinging to the outside. “It looks like it would fall apart the moment you reached sub-warp.” 

Hongjoong was practically giggled, looking so fucking  _ pleased _ . “ _ Illusion  _ looks like a rough job, but you should see her go. She’s more reliable than any of those cruisers they could put you on with their fancy tech. She’s lasted a good few months with no issues.” 

Hongjoong stepped up, placing a hand against the hull. “I sold my parents old house to get her. The guy practically gave her to me, but it was his loss. He could have done a lot more with her than he did.” 

Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong as if he was crazy. 

So, he was one of those weird people. The ones who gave their ships names and talked to them as if they were people. People who believed that you could tell exactly what was wrong with a ship, just by the purr of the engine. 

People who felt like you could get a ship to respond better to your commands by being nice to it. Seonghwa swallowed a little uncomfortably. 

“She’s got to be nothing but bare bones inside,” Seonghwa said firmly. “Her controls must be a fucking mess. There’s no way anything inside of her works well enough to run.” 

Hongjoong grinned, slick and smug. He shifted his hand a little to the left and pressed a button. 

The entrance ramp disengaged, hissing and creaking as it lowered to the ground. People looked over at the commotion, but Seonghwa was only staring at Hongjoong who crossed his arms. 

“Would you like to see for yourself?” 

Once more, he entered without checking to see if Seonghwa followed. 

And as much as Seonghwa wanted to spit at him and turn away, just to prove him wrong… he was also really curious about what sort of system would still fit this sort of junk piece. 

He cursed again, hurrying up the ramp. Hongjoong was already disappearing up a ladder, and Seonghwa followed, cursing all the way. 

The inside of the ship was surprisingly put together, even if it was still disgusting compared to the Helios X-5s that Seonghwa had been piloting. But there was something… rustic charming… maybe even a bit nostalgic about the old piece of shit. 

Hongjoong kept up a commentary as they walked, about what parts he had already replaced, what he needed to fix- 

“I can do a little of everything,” Hongjoong assured him. “Never went to a big, fancy academy, but I worked in a lot of junk yards and maintenance shops, so I know my way around. I can make her move, but…” He glanced over his shoulder, a knowing smile playing over his lips. “I think you know there’s a difference between driving a ship and  _ piloting  _ her.” 

Seonghwa wanted to get defensive, but Hongjoong was already moving on to talk about the wiring he needed to get from Rondia if he wanted to get the food system working. 

The control room was… nothing like the ships Seonghwa was used to driving. 

But Seonghwa had made a passion out of piloting- not just the big cruisers with the newest updates, but everything back to the earliest Helios 1 that couldn’t support any newer systems. 

Seonghwa glanced from the piloting station to the Observers and Navigators panels. 

He walked towards the pilot seat without looking at Hongjoong. The chair’s leather was splitting and dry-rotted, but Seonghwa sat anyway, staring at the array of switches and buttons and touch pads. 

He frowned, running his hands over them softly. “This is a G5 system…” He scanned over the thruster levels. “It’d be hell to try and get the warp going without blowing the thrusters. Your navigation would have to be correct to the thousands decimal just to avoid crashing into things. There’s no way you could get past a high warp speed without needing to completely shut off your quadrant boosters, just hoping you could stop in time before you crashed into a planet-” 

“Sounds like a real challenge… doesn’t it?” 

Seonghwa turned, Hongjoong staring at him, not with a giddy grin, but something softer, more genuine. Almost inviting. Seonghwa withdrew his hands quickly, sitting them in his lap. 

“What do you want from me?” Seonghwa questioned carefully, his blood beginning to race in a rush of adrenaline. “Are you seriously asking me to drop everything and come pilot this piece of shit?” 

The question wasn’t disbelieving. 

It almost came out colored… hopeful. 

Hongjoong shrugged, crossing his arms leisurely. He leaned against the wall. “I’m not asking anything. I’m saying that you’re one of the best pilots on the planets… and I happen to be in need of a good pilot.” 

Seonghwa felt like he was going to throw up. He turned back to the system, something in him almost itching to actually try and see if he could open this ship up to its full potential. 

It sounded like a personal challenge. Seonghwa had never been good at backing down from those. 

“I have hundreds of job opportunities open to me,” Seonghwa told him, turning back. “Jobs with good benefits that would give me an early retirement with a pension more than you probably earn in a year. So why, exactly, should I go with you just so you can….” He frowned. “What are you doing that you need such a good pilot for?” 

Hongjoong shrugged again, nonchalant. “Exploring.” 

Seonghwa stared. “Exploring.” 

He nodded. “Yeah. Exploring. I’ve been to three or so nearby systems, but…” He frowned, distasteful. “All of them are the same. But I’m not a good enough pilot to get myself to further systems. I need someone who can get  _ Illusion  _ there, and get her out of anything we might find along the way.” 

“Like what?” Seonghwa asked, straightening in attention. Was he planning on smuggling? 

“Solar flares,” Hongjoong said. “Meteor rains, gravital holes, potential run-ins with pirates or angry off-worlders. Black holes, exploding suns…” His lips twitched. “Deep space is full of things that need some quick piloting to get out of.” 

He was baiting him. Seonghwa knew it, he knew it was practically dangling a carrot on a stick, but by God- 

It sounded like the most fun Seonghwa could ever have. 

Sims and practice were great, but Seonghwa couldn’t even imagine the adrenaline rush he would get from being there in the real thing. 

He stamped down the part of him that told him to jump at the chance. “Sounds like you plan on getting into all sorts of trouble.” 

Hongjoong grinned, as if he knew he had already won. “Dangers of the occupation.” 

Seonghwa was silent, swallowing down the part of him that said to say he was ready to leave when Hongjoong was. 

God, he couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to pilot out where there was nothing to run into for  _ light years _ . 

Using a system that was half dead but that Seonghwa was itching to try and bring back to life. 

Hongjoong nodded, more to himself. “Alright, well, I’ve said my peace,” he said easily. “ _ Illusion _ and I will be heading out at 0600 tomorrow.” He walked towards the door, pausing at the entrance and glancing back with a grin that was  _ wicked _ . “If you’d like to challenge yourself, you’re welcome to join us.” 

Leave behind the things that Seonghwa had been working for for the past 5 years of his life. Give up the life he had already planned on working on the cargo barges, setting aside his money, and retiring at an early age with nothing else to do with his life. 

Leave behind everything he had been planning his entire life… and follow some maniac with a scrap heap that Seonghwa was practically itching to make work. 

At 0600 the next day, Hongjoong’s jacket was no less dusty, his skin no less dirty, and his ship no better than before. 

But when he caught sight of Seonghwa striding towards him, a bag over his shoulder, his smile was a million watts brighter, as if Seonghwa was the best thing that happened to him in years. 

Seonghwa offered a hesitant smile to him. 

He didn’t know it yet, but he would not live to regret a single moment that came from his decision. 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong woke up slowly, breathing in deeply and letting it out in a short yawn as he let his drift open- 

His eyes were open. But nothing but darkness beat against his irises. 

His breath seized as he threw a hand back, reaching for Seonghwa, but all he met was empty bed. 

Between the worlds of sleeping and waking, Hongjoong shot up, disoriented, hands groping around the bed. “Seonghwa?” he rasped, shifting towards the blackness he knew was the direction of Seonghwa’s spot, feeling nothing but empty bed and darkness for miles and miles- 

“ _ Seonghwa _ !” Panic welled in his throat as he tried to orient himself, head looking back and forth, trying to catch a sound, a footstep, someone breathing- 

A black abyss pressed on him, and Hongjoong tried to remember which direction the door was in, which direction would take him to Seonghwa. He shoved himself towards the edge of the bed, throwing a leg off. 

His foot collided painfully with the table beside the bed, and he cried out sharply, jerking away from it, back onto the bed, his chest squeezing too tight- 

In the darkness, he heard a door slide open rapidly. “Hongjoong!” 

Hongjoong’s head whipped towards Seonghwa’s voice, hands grasping along the bed, trying to figure out where was safe to move- 

Hands suddenly grasped his, and Hongjoong was being dragged forward, Seonghwa encasing him, giving substance rather than an endless darkness that still choked his lungs- 

“I got you,” Seonghwa said quickly, drawing Hongjoong in close, burying his face in his hair, clinging to him as Hongjoong grabbed onto him, holding on much too tightly. “I’ve got you, Hongjoong, I’m right here, I’m sorry-” 

Hongjoong shook his head quickly, at least feeling like he was able to grab onto a buoy, even if he was still drifting through darkness. He swallowed some of the panic, shoving it back into its place. 

“No,” he said, voice a little strained. He still leaned too heavily on Seonghwa. “No, I- I’m okay, I shouldn’t have-” 

Seonghwa petted his hand soothingly, Hongjoong swallowing thickly as the adrenaline faded. “I just stepped out to speak with Yeosang, I’m sorry-” 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have panicked that hard,” Hongjoong said in a rush as he felt the crispness of Seonghwa’s shirt beneath his fingers. 

Honestly, what was he thinking, just sitting here yelling for Seonghwa, as if he didn’t know his way around his own room? 

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa murmured, rubbing his back. 

The silence that fell on them was almost as bad as the darkness, but at the very least, Hongjoong knew exactly where he was. 

“What did Yeosang want?” 

Seonghwa hesitated. And Hongjoong understood why. They were in their quarters. Their safe space. But he asked anyway. And even though he sounded like this was the last thing he wanted to discuss, he sighed. 

“Just giving me an update on Wooyoung. He’s weaning him off of the harder pain meds, so he’ll likely wake up today. He says Yunho already has us plotted for Algotha, we should reach its first planet by tomorrow.”

Hongjoong’s eyes were closed, allowing him to calm enough to think. “Algotha’s first planet… Alcene isn’t the best in terms of trying to trade for stuff…” 

“It’s got a richer upper class,” Seonghwa muttered. “Difficult, but not impossible to haggle with. We might wind up needing to give more than we plan for, but we only need enough material to cover us until we can get a more permanent fix done somewhere else.” 

Hongjoong hummed. “Tell Mingi to start taking stock of everything we can spare to trade, just in case we-” 

A finger was placed against his lips, and Hongjoong fell silent, frowning as he tilted his head towards Seonghwa. 

“That’s enough for now,” Seonghwa said quietly, sounding amused. “Those are orders for outside.” 

Hongjoong almost wanted to smile, if he didn’t have so many other concerns. 

This area was a sacred place, and far be it from Hongjoong to try and defile that. 

“We’ll figure it out, and everything is going to go back to normal in a couple of weeks,” Seonghwa comforted, gentle hands pressing against Hongjoong’s side. 

Hongjoong let out a slow breath. Part of him wanted to push, to remind Seonghwa that they were on a schedule, that their ship was currently working on its last leg, that Wooyoung was still unconscious and would probably need further medical supplies- 

But, instead, he simply traced a hand up from Seonghwa’s arm, trailing over his cheek until Hongjoong’s fingertips brushed soft lips. 

He leaned forward carefully, moving his hand as his lips pressed against Seonghwa’s gently. It was a simple kiss- warm and careful as Seonghwa leaned in slightly, Hongjoong feeling some of the panic fade at the proximity. Seonghwa’s hand brushed his cheek, and after only a moment, Hongjoong pulled away slowly. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, lips barely brushing Seonghwa’s. 

From so close, he could feel how Soenghwa’s lips tilted upwards. He said nothing, simply kissed Hongjoong gently once more, there and then gone, but still close. 

“I think we may not actually have all that much time before-” 

The intercom on the wall crackled to life, and he heard Seonghwa sigh, his own prediction cut off. “Hey, Cap?” San’s voice came through. “Uh… sorry, you guys aren’t up here yet, but… we have a little issue.” 

Hongjoong turned towards the sound, still keeping his eyes shut tightly. “What sort of issue?” 

Hongjoong could feel it- in himself and in Seonghwa’s own body- the tension returning. The muscles stiffening and backs straightening and eyes hardening as both of them realized their little reprieve was at an end. 

“A couple of cruisers,” San reported. “They’re at a distance, but they are heading towards us.” 

Hongjoong sighed, grip tightening on Seonghwa for one more moment. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the control room with his new handicap, but it was lucky for him that he didn’t have a choice. 

“We’re coming,” Hongjoong informed him. There was a confirmation noise, and the intercom cut off. 

Hongjoong physically forced his arms to release Seonghwa, determination and the weight of command adding confidence to his movements, even if he continued to grope his way off of the bed. The touches were no longer afraid, but simply seeking. 

He found the wall, using it as a guide- only bumping into the nightstand- and making his way to the door. “Seonghwa,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “Can you grab my jacket?” 

He heard the other moving around, and barely a moment later, the familiar worn leather was pressed into his hand. Hongjoong slid it on, feeling a little less exposed. 

“How do you want to work this?” Seonghwa questioned, as firm and indifferent as if he were already seated in his pilot’s chair. 

Hongjoong grit his teeth. “Give me your arm,” he said, holding out one hand. 

Like a gentlemen at a ball, Seonghwa offered his arm, Hongjoong rested his hand on it- not even holding, just using it as a guide. “Just make sure I don’t trip in front of everyone,” Hongjoong said, the barest trace of humor there, even if the request was true. 

Seonghwa hummed. “Not that they would care if you did.” 

It was almost more of Hongjoong leading Seonghwa, trusting the paths he had walked day after day for years, and only Seonghw’s arm guiding him gently one way or another told of his inability to find his own way. 

It felt strange to touch Seonghwa like this outside of the room. 

It wasn’t as if the rest of the crew wasn’t painfully aware of the two of them that had been something more than captain and pilot for years now. They  _ knew _ . 

But that didn’t negate the fact that lives rode on their shoulders, and Hongjoong could not afford to care about Seonghwa. Could not afford to make his instinct out here to be protecting Seonghwa first. He had to think about the crew as a whole- with Seonghwa as nothing more than another member of the crew. 

Seonghwa juggled the same illusion. It didn’t matter what else happened, his main concern had to be keeping the ship out of trouble and acting in a way that put the crew first. 

Not Hongjoong. No matter what stupid plan he got in his head to sacrifice himself. 

They swallowed those fears until they were within their quarters. It was there, and only there, that the yelling or crying or accusations would fall. And it didn’t matter how violently they fell- when they exited the walls of those quarters, they set that aside and were nothing more than two crew members charged with keeping the rest alive. 

Hongjoong stepped onto the familiar grating of the control deck, and forced his eyes open. 

It was for nothing more than face, and Hongjoong felt another burst of panic at the darkness that greeted him, but he kept his eyes open, not willing to walk around so visibly handicapped. 

“San, Yunho,” Seonghwa greeted casually. 

Hongjoong’s hand tightened on his arm for a brief moment. He didn’t need Seonghwa to narrate the room for him. 

(He did secretly appreciate it.) 

“How many?” Hongjoong asked, releasing Seonghwa’s arm. He knew this room, at least, in the dark. 

“Three,” Yunho said from his left. “All S Classes. Probably cargo ships, but we aren’t in any designated cargo areas, so I don’t know what they would be doing out here.” 

“They might be carting secret or high class items,” Seonghwa guessed. “We  _ are  _ close to Alcene. It might be some high class export.” 

Hongjoong moved forward, reaching forward as casually as possible until his hand met the console and he moved up to it. “How far?” 

“About thirty minutes from running right into us.” 

Hongjoong hummed. He didn’t need his sight to think, but it sure as fuck would have made it easier to know how the others were staring at him. 

“Seonghwa, can you get us around them?” 

He heard the pilot moving, and Yunho standing from his chair, the familiar creak of the leather as he took his seat, the click of switches and the slide of gauges. He didn’t need to see to know that Seonghwa’s brows would draw down, eyes stern and sharp as they flickered across the console, fingers dancing across it. 

“I can avoid them, no problem,” he reported. “But I can’t guarantee we’ll miss their sensors. And they’ll probably be suspicious of a ship like this going so close to Algotha.” 

Hongjoong stared at what he hoped was Seonghwa. “Yunho,” he said sharply. “Can you get Wooyoung’s shield from Tremont to work?” 

“The shield?” he questioned, sounding shocked. “Uh… well, I can try. I’ve seen him do it, but he never lets anyone touch it but him-” 

“Figure it out,” Hongjoong ordered. “And let me know if you can’t. You’ve got five minutes.” 

Yunho raced off. San cleared his throat. “Should I… go help him?” 

“Stay here,” Hongjoong assured him, hands gripping the console tightly. “I need you to help me get the readings from these things.” Hongjoong’s hands brushed over the various controls of his own panel. 

Nav… Boosters… Shielding… Intercom… Quadrants… He knew the console even without looking. “I just need you to read out whatever Seonghwa or I tell you to. I’ll take care of the rest.” 

San was silent for just a beat too long, and Hongjoong knew he was skeptical. “Sure thing,” he said instead of fighting. “What do you need?” 

“Coordinates of the cruisers,” Seonghwa ordered. 

“I want their radio frequencies on stand by, just in case they notice us,” Hongjoong said sharply. He reached instinctively, finger pressing the intercom. “Yunho, talk to me.” 

“Uh,” Came the stressed reply. “I-I know what Wooyoung did before. I can’t guarantee I can keep it up for very long without knowing-” 

“Can you get us ten minutes?” Hongjoong demanded. 

“Uh… I mean-  _ Yes _ , I will make sure we get at least ten minutes,” Yunho said, confidence and determination sounding. 

Hongjoong nodded. “Okay. Get it ready, and wait for Seonghwa’s signal.” 

“Aye.” 

Hongjoong tilted his head towards Seonghwa. “Is ten minutes enough?” 

He could practically  _ feel  _ the small smirk, the sensation almost normal as he felt his own lips twitch reflexively. “I’ll make it enough. Just tell me when you want us out of here.” 

“Heh. That’s so cool,” San chuckled. “Our captain doesn’t even  _ need  _ his fucking eyes.” 

Hongjoong tossed a generally bitchy face in his direction, before sobering back at the console. “Are we going to fall apart if we go just above a mid-warp?” 

A brief silence. “If Seonghwa can control the thrusters enough, we shouldn’t,” San informed him, voice quick and precise. “If we go much above sixth gear, we’ll start losing pieces of the hull.” 

“Can you get us passed them without going above sixth?” 

There was a short pause, a million calculations and decisions flying through Seonghwa’s mind. “I’d have to redirect power to nav-path,” Seonghwa said, half to himself and half out loud. “It might cut out cloaking time short…. But I think even without ten full minutes, I can get us past them if I can get enough power.” 

“Take it from anywhere that doesn’t need it,” Hongjoong ordered, hand reaching for the intercom controls. “Mingi,” he barked. 

“Yeah, boss?” 

“Start taking account of everything we can afford to trade. You and Jongho move it to the storage area in case we need it on Alcene.” 

“On it, boss.” He could practically see the sarcastic little salute. 

Captain, Cap, Boss… everyone had their things they called him- some out of some warped respect and some just to piss him off. 

“Seonghwa, let me know as soon as we’re good to get the fuck out of here.” 

It almost felt like being able to see. Not even two days without his sight, and Hongjoong was already acting as if he had been blind for months. 

It’s just temporary, he repeated, over and over, silent and scared. He’d see again. Yeosang was a miracle worker. 

For now, though, he couldn’t see, and Hongjoong was using every ounce of acting and boisterous confidence he had to appear calm. 

It was easier than he thought, given the reliability of the crew surrounding him. 

_ Illusion  _ lived up to her name  _ every  _ damn day. 

~~~~~~~

Yeosang caught a vial that rolled from his desk, saving it was crashing onto the ground, holding it next to the three others he had saved. 

“Fucking Christ,” he muttered, holding them gingerly. “If they don’t install some fucking shock absorbers into this thing, I’m going to  _ lose it _ .” 

He placed them safely in the box he had been putting all of his remaining medicines in. It was carefully wedged in a corner to keep it from slipping around as they skirted around whatever too-shady people they had encountered. 

“I’ll add that to the next upgrade…” 

Yeosang whipped around, glad he had already placed the vials down, because he’s sure he would have dropped them. 

Wooyoung half-sat up in the bed, wincing as a hand came and pressed to his side. He held his breath, sitting up and leaning back against the pillows behind him, expression a little strained with pain, but teeth visible as he grinned. 

“You don’t look all that happy to see me,” he said, voice a little rough. 

Yeosang almost wished he had been holding the vials, the desire to throw them to the ground an overwhelming urge. He stormed forward, ice and rage in his veins. 

Wooyoung smile dropped as Yeosang brought his hand down-

Even injured, Wooyoung caught Yeosang’s hand before it could strike him across the face. 

Hippocratic oath be  _ damned _ . 

Wooyoung looked startled, and when Yeosang violently swung his other hand at his cheek, Wooyoung caught that one, too, grip weakened, but tight enough to keep Yeosang from completing the action. 

“You  _ ass _ ,” Yeosang hissed, and before he knew it, tears were burning their way down his cheek as he struggled against Wooyoung’s hold for a moment. 

It wasn’t even an attempt to get away. 

There was just a urge inside of him telling him to beat that stupid, innocent confusion off of Wooyoung’s face. 

“ _ You _ ,” Yeosang snapped, tearing his hands out of Wooyoung’s grip as the other’s face dropped in an almost-fear. “You were caught in a fucking  _ explosion _ . I found you laying in a  _ fucking  _ pile of burning wreckage, almost losing more blood than I had on hand-” He blinked and more angry tears burned his face. “You were unconscious for  _ three fucking days _ , and you have the  _ audacity  _ to wake up and try to  _ joke  _ with me, Jung Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung looked startled, as if he hadn’t expected such a reaction. His mouth flapped for a moment. “I- I didn’t… Yeosang-” 

“You fucking leg was fractured, you had a cut in your side that almost broke your fucking ribs, and I used up most of my burn ointment on you. And then Hongjoong comes in with his fucking eyes burned-” 

“Hongjoong  _ what _ ?” he demanded, face paling rapidly. 

“That is not what we are talking about!” Yeosang shouted, fists clenching at his side in a desperate attempt not to harm Wooyoung further. “I was scared  _ shitless _ , Wooyoung, so don’t you fucking  _ dare  _ try and act cute with me when I just finished digging out bits of  _ rubble  _ out of your side!” His fists shook. “I-” 

His voice failed. He swallowed angrily. 

“I just knew that there was an explosion,” he hissed. “And when I showed up, I didn’t even fucking  _ see  _ you, Wooyoung.” His visions kept blurring and clearing as liquid dripped from his eyes. “Do you know what temperature it takes to incinerate a body? Do you know how little smoke inhalation it takes to start brain damage? How much blood you have to lose before transfusions don’t fucking help? How easy it is to be crushed at just the right angle that your fucking ribs pierce your fucking heart?”

Wooyoung could only stare. 

“Because  _ I  _ do,” Yeosang snapped, voice shaking. “ _ I do _ , and I was running through  _ every  _ fucking scenario of it while I was digging your body out of a fucking  _ scrap heap _ .” 

It didn’t matter that the majority of his wounds were superficial. It didn’t that Yeosang was able to get him to a stable condition within an hour- 

It didn’t  _ matter  _ because for those terrifying moment he was running, Yeosang didn’t  _ know _ . Didn’t know how large the explosion had been, how close Wooyoung had been to it, what metal or wiring might have been caught in it, what sort of shrapnel had been created by it- 

Yeosang hadn’t  _ known _ . There was only every worst case scenario that Yeosang couldn’t prepare for, couldn’t provide for because of his lost supplies. 

All he knew was that Wooyoung might be dying, and Yeosang might not have enough to save him. 

“So wipe that fucking smile off your face, like this was some fucking bruise from falling from the bulk head.” 

Yeosang wasn’t scared, he was  _ angry _ . 

Wooyoung looked as he had never looked before. Because he had never warranted such a speech from Yeosang. He had been the victim of rants and snaps about being careful, but nothing so violent as this, angry tears and shaking fists. 

“Yeosang…” 

Wooyoung looked so much like a kicked puppy, Yeosang almost felt bad. 

Almost. 

His eyes shone as his mouth continued to move without finding words. “I- I didn’t mean to…” He wet his chapped lips. “I had to get us out of there,” he said quietly. “We were going to tear open the hull. Everyone was in danger, I had to-” 

“You held the fucking transfer plates yourself!” Yeosang shouted. “You know how I know? Because half of your insides were  _ roasted  _ from the electricity you ran through yourself!”

It wasn’t anything life threatening, and Yeosang had been able to fix it with the Leinmalium he had on hand, but it was still  _ something that happened _ . 

“There was no time to go through the motions,” Wooyoung pressed, voice stern, but his eyes begging Yeosang to believe him. “We  _ had  _ to get out of there. I didn’t think they would blow when I separated them-” 

“Why not?” Yeosang demanded. “How could you just not think of that? Am I supposed to not account for the fact that an artery is going to  _ spurt  _ when I cut into it?”

“Yeosang, I didn’t-” 

“ _ You can’t- _ ” 

“Was I just supposed to let everyone  _ die _ ?” Wooyoung finally demanded, voice raising to a shout to get over Yeosang’s own voice. He glared, expression tight and dark. “Hongjoong told me to get us the fuck out of there, and I  _ did  _ that, Yeosang. I was doing what I could to make sure you and the others didn’t get fucking sucked out into space.” 

Yeosang already knew this. Had already comforted himself with that fact. Did it lessen the fear in his heart at all? No. 

Yeosang’s jaw twitched. “Congratulations,” he spat. “You’re a hero.” 

It was too far. It was so far out of line that even Yeosang winced after he spit it out, but he still turned on his heel, marching into his office and slamming the door shut, leaning against it, eyes burning and disgusting eating away at his stomach. 

He pressed a hand over his eyes, something like sob sticking in his chest. 

It was all coming rushing to a head at the sight of Wooyoung actually sitting up, looking at it, alive and breathing and functional- 

And it only made Yeosang that much more pissed because he had almost  _ lost that _ . 

He understood, now, why Hongjoong and Seonghwa clung so desperately to their stupid rule. Because it was a stupid rule, but it kept things like this from happening. 

It kept Yeosang from making an ass of himself at a patient who had only regained consciousness moments ago. 

He blew out a sharp breath, scrubbing at his burning eyes. 

Wooyoung had saved their lives. Even if he lost his in the process, he was saving lives, and Yeosang, more than anyone, should have been able to respect that. 

But then he saw Wooyoung laying under a piece of torn off metal, burns covering most of his skin and his shirt smouldering as blood poured out of his side- 

And it suddenly didn’t fucking seem worth it. 

And Yeosang felt fucking disgusting because those were his friends. His friends that Wooyoung was saving. His friends of years and years of adventures and trust and loving, and Yeosang was sitting here, angry at Wooyoung for trying to  _ save them-  _

The door opened behind him, and Yeosang stumbled where he was leaning against it, catching himself and turning quickly. 

Wooyoung leaned on the wall, one hand pressed to his side firmly, and his expression a mixture of discomfort, fire, and soft regret. 

Yeosang only felt part of him snap back into place. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded, stepping beside Wooyoung and taking his weight, forcing his side to straighten to take the pressure off of his side. “I never told you you could stand up,” Yeosang snapped, leading him slowly back to the bed. “I haven’t gotten a chance to bring you to the regenerator- I swear to God, if you fuck up your leg more- I don’t care if you can’t feel it, you’re on six different pain medications-” 

He got them to the nearest bed, forcing Wooyoung to sit with that gentle but insistent medic touch. Wooyoung hissed when he sat, and Yeosang lifted his legs carefully, placing them back on the bed and checking the bandaged he had wrapped around the fractured bone- 

Wooyoung’s fingers curled around his wrist. 

Yeosang grit his teeth, not looking at him, but freezing. “Wooyoung, later,” he said firmly. “I need to check-” 

“Not later,” Wooyoung said softly. “Later, you’re going to be angry again.” 

Yeosang closed his eyes firmly, breathing evenly. “What is it?” 

“Can you please look at me?” 

Yeosang didn’t want to. But without his consent, his eyes opened as he glanced up at Wooyoung who stared back at him, eyes serious and warm. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to worry you like that. I don’t regret it, but I’m sorry I didn’t find a different way. I didn’t do it to be heroic. I just wanted to keep you guys safe.” 

This crew was Wooyoung’s family. The only one he had ever had. 

Hongjoong had picked him up at some scrapyard in the poorest quadrant of the Rinsen galaxy- a scrawny little junk rat with too much time on his hands and too many dreams for what his scrap yard allowed. He sold old metal and fixed up the newer stuff to get a little more for it. 

He tinkered until he could build a warp tube out of an old refrigerador and an electric toothbrush. 

Hongjoong had practically been smitten, offering him  _ Illusion _ as his personal playground for upgrades and tinkering. 

Wooyoung never looked back. 

And Wooyoung stared at Yeosang now, begging him to understand, and Yeosang  _ did _ . 

But… Wooyoung was hurt- 

Wooyoung pulled him forward slowly. There was no quip about Yeosang having too pretty of a face for such a sour expression. No snarky attempt to get out of trouble by telling Yeosang angels couldn’t hurt anyone. 

He simply pulled and pulled until his lips were pressing against Yeosang’s gently- a very clear question of forgiveness. 

Yeosang had half a mind to shove him off, to make him pay just a little longer. But Wooyoung’s hand trembled against Yeosang slightly, and Yeosang knew he had done enough hurting of his own. 

In addition- he was suddenly hit in the chest with the fact that he hadn’t lost this. 

Wooyoung was breathing softly against his mouth, lips moving carefully, and Yeosang could pick up his pulse where his hand was pressed to his arm. 

Yeosang sighed, relaxing into the action, and he felt Wooyoung practically shake with relief as Yeosang shifted a little closer, careful to keep himself from crushing Wooyoung who made a soft sound against his lips. Something between a breath of relief and a moan, his fingers tightening around his wrist. 

It was almost funny, how all of Wooyoung’s visits to Medical Bay wound up like this. Him apologizing and kissing Yeosang gently- in a more mature way than he normally kissed- erasing all the thoughts Yeosang had of being mad when he remembered why he kept fixing Wooyoung up. 

Wooyoung knew, if Yeosang kissed him back, it meant forgiveness, however reluctant it might be. 

It was Wooyoung being an idiot who got himself hurt that made Yeosang kiss him the first time. 

~~~~~~~

It was at the tail end of 2AM when the alarm in Yeosang’s quarters started going off. 

Someone was having a medical emergency. 

He leapt out of bed, checking the alarm to see where the alarm had been sounded- 

Engineering ducts. 

Yeosang grabbed his emergency kit, racing down the halls without even slipping on any shoes, the grates digging into his bare feet. 

Yeosang had gotten used to the pace of the ship. According to Wooyoung, it had been just over a year since he had chosen to come with them. (He said this while grinning broadly as Yeosang ran a regenerator across his torn skin from falling from a box he had balanced on his ladder.) 

And Yeosang… Yeosang had never regretted that decision. 

The crew accepted him easily, absorbing him into their ranks, and when newer ones showed up (Jongho, shortly after him, and Mingi, following Jongho by only months) they blended in as well. 

And Yeosang had come to care for each of them startlingly quickly as he patched their wounds or rolled his eyes at their stupidity. 

San liked to call him a stick in the mud. Wooyoung liked to coo over how sweet it was that he cared. 

Wooyoung also liked to drag Yeosang out of Medical Bay when he stayed in there for more than a few hours without patients, forcing him up to the control room to see space zooming by. Or dragging him to the observation deck when they passed an exploding sun, Yeosang watching, for the first time in his life, the ending of such a majestic life. 

“That solar system is dead now, you understand?” Yeosang had to ask as Wooyoung stared at it with all the awe Yeosang held, even though he had seen countless. 

Wooyoung shrugged. “The planets would have all evacuated long ago. It’s pretty isn’t it?” 

And it was. 

Wooyoung liked making him sit in engineering with him, where Yeosang got front row seats to all the actions that brought him grey hairs as Wooyoung leapt from wiring and pipes like they were monkey bars. The engineering room was his playground, and Yeosang marveled at his mind while he cursed his stupidity. 

This man could rework an entire system with his bare hands in minutes, but slipped on a fucking oil spot that he spilled on the ground. 

Wooyoung had a brilliant mind, even if his common sense left something to be desired. 

“Your brain is hot.” 

Yeosang couldn’t glance away as he held Yunho’s arm (the boy put under heavy anesthesia) under the regenerator, peering at the display of bone that was snapped clear in half (an accidental run in with a Gorden on a planet that had not gone well). 

The X-ray showed him where to place the bones, and he was playing a careful game of adjustments. 

“That is a very random statement,” he noted, not looking at Wooyoung who stared at him, looking queasy last he had checked. Yeosang had grown used to Wooyoung’s flirtations. And Wooyoung had grown used to them not going anywhere.

“It is,” he said, a small gagging sound in his throat. “You’re sitting here shoving bone back together with your bare hands.” 

“Well, if we had an up to date Medical Bay, I’d have something that could do this for me,” He muttered, seeing the satisfying line up as bone melded back together. 

“Exactly,” Wooyoung said brightly. “You stitched Hongjoong back up  _ while  _ we were under fire from those smugglers. And you wiggle around bone like it’s noth-” A small gag. “Nothing!” 

Yeosang watched the readings on the screen, seeing it creep towards 100%. “I went to Medical school, Wooyoung. I worked at a prison. I have to be able to do these things.” 

“Doesn’t make it any less impressive to watch.” 

The screen lit up in green and Yeosang released the arm, breathing out slowly. “There,” he muttered. “Now, the next time he breaks it, I’m breaking him.” 

Wooyoung chuckled where he had his legs drawn up on a cot. “Your threats are hot, too.” 

“Is there any part of me that isn’t hot?” Yeosang questioned as he snapped off his gloves, tossing them into the incinerator. He moved the regenerator away from Yunho. 

There was a long pause, and when Yeosang glanced back, Wooyoung was looking more serious than he had ever seen him, appearing to seriously consider it. Yeosang stared, unimpressed. 

Wooyoung finally shook his head. “Nope, all of you is hot. Inside and out. Under clothes and on top.” 

“You’ve never seen me with my clothes off!” Yeosang snapped, scandalized. 

Wooyoung nodded. “Yeah, I have. That one time where your shirt caught on fire. For a nerdy doctor, you are  _ shredded- _ ” 

Yeosang slapped a hand over his mouth, glaring, and Wooyoung only looked like he was delighted at the reaction. 

Yeosang wasn’t really upset. He found himself getting truly annoyed at these people less and less often as he spent his time here. 

And so it never failed to make his heart leap when that emergency alarm sounded. 

He reached engineering within minutes, and as soon as he entered the room, he brought his shirt up to his mouth, smelling something that certainly was not oxygen in the air. 

There was a panel missing from the wall, a little tunnel full of wires- 

Just outside of it was Wooyoung slumped against the wall, the alarm above him flickering bright red. 

Yeosang ran forward, grabbing him under his arms and dragging him out of the room, struggling against his weight for only a moment before getting him out to the hall, slamming his hand on the door to lock down the room, airtight. 

He dropped his shirt, pressing a hand to Wooyoung’s neck and feeling a weak pulse. 

_ Fuck _ , what was he even breathing in all that time?

Yeosang grabbed his bag, reaching in and loading up a syringe to boost his heartbeat. 

Wooyoung hated shots. More than broken bones and concussions, he cried and whined over shots like nothing else. 

He pressed a hand to his nose and mouth, feeling for any bursts of air, his other hand pressed to his chest. There was no rise or fall. 

Yeosang injected it quickly, already tilting his head back and pressing their mouths together, breathing air into his chest. 

It barely took three breaths before Wooyoung was coughing into his mouth, sputtering and choking as Yeosang rolled him onto his side as he gagged, holding him there as relief flooded him. 

Wooyoung turned back to him, still coughing, face red. “Wh- Yeosang-” 

“As soon as you can stand, I want to take you back to Medical Bay,” Yeosang said calmly, smoothing a hand across his back to relax him. “I want to figure out if that did anything to your brain.” 

Wooyoung nodded slowly, pressing a hand to his temple. “My head hurts,” he muttered. 

“That’s because you inhaled enough of  _ something  _ to pass out.” Yeosang checked his eyes, seeing them dilate in as Yeosang shone a light. “What happened?” 

Wooyoung blinked, still sluggish, but he began to use Yeosang as a crutch to stand. “I was working,” he said through a heavy tongue. “I started getting lightheaded, and when I went to stand up to call you, I think I blacked out. I don’t even remember hitting the alarm.” 

Yeosang took one of his arms, taking his weight as he lead them back to the Medical Bay. “It’s 2 AM, Wooyoung,” He scolded, heart not calming. “Why were you working in there  _ alone _ ?” 

“I had sudden midnight inspiration to get our oxygen to be more efficient.” 

“You were just fucking around with the oxygen while everyone was sleeping?” Yeosang demanded, mouth dropping. “ _ Wooyoung- _ ” 

“I might have knocked the wrong pipe or something. Must of let loose a gas or something.” Wooyoung shrugged, nonchalant. “I don’t even remember passing out.” 

“Well, you weren’t even fucking breathing when I got there,” Yeosang muttered darkly. “And your heart was slow. How long had you been breathing that shit in?” he muttered, reaching Medical Bay and shoving him into a bed before hooking up every machine he had, checking all his vitals, looking for anything concerning. 

Wooyoung looked at least a little sorry. “I honestly didn’t even notice until I stood up-” 

He cut off so suddenly, Yeosang glanced up from his screen, stepping forward. “What?” he questioned. “Are you having chest pains? Head aches?” 

Wooyoung suddenly looked at him, gasping, and Yeosang jumped. “If I wasn’t breathing-” He clapped his hands to his mouth in shock. “Did you kiss me?” 

Yeosang smacked his over the head with his screen, oxygen deprivation be  _ damned _ . 

Wooyoung let out a genuine cry of pain, and Yeosang only felt satisfaction. “CPR isn’t sexy, Wooyoung- You weren’t  _ fucking  _ breathing.” 

Wooyoung, however, stuck his lip out in a pout. “You finally kissed me and I wasn’t even conscious for it?” he demanded, like it Yeosang’s fault. 

Yeosang frowned. “It’s not kissing, it’s CPR, Wooyoung, what the hell is your-” His heart suddenly skipped and then stopped, voice choking off. “W-What the hell do you mean ‘finally’?” 

Wooyoung stared at Yeosang as if he wasn’t quite sure he was being serious. “What do you mean  _ ‘what do you mean’ _ ? I’ve been throwing myself at you since we met, Yeosang.” 

Yeosang wanted to stutter, but all that came out was a flat murmur. “You… But you weren’t  _ serious _ . You’re just an asshole.” 

Wooyoung only looked slightly offended at that. “I mean, I wasn’t going to really push it since you never said anything, but I absolutely would be down for you kissing me at your leisure.” 

“It was  _ CPR- _ ” 

“ _ Outside  _ of saving my life,” Wooyoung said shortly. Yeosang stared, and Wooyoung laughed, almost a bit nervous. “Shit, Yeosang, did you just think I was talking out of my ass this whole time?” 

“You always talk out of your ass!” Yeosang said, defending himself. “Flirting is like breathing to you!” 

“Have I ever flirted with the other members of the crew?” Wooyoung questioned pointedly. 

Yeosang wet his lips nervously. “Well- I mean, you just like getting a rise out of me, you don’t  _ mean  _ it-” 

“But I did,” Wooyoung pressed, beginning to look a little scared. “Like I said, I wasn’t going to pressure you, but I wanted you to know that I was open to it.” 

Yeosang felt like someone had just shot him full of adrenaline, his hands shaking. “I- I didn’t-  _ Why _ ?” he demanded. “Why the hell would you- With  _ me _ ?”

Yeosang was his friend, yes. But Yeosang was just a medic that Wooyoung dragged from a prison hospital. Yeosang was just the socially awkward medic who couldn’t show affection in any other way than hitting people with needles. Yeosang was just Wooyoung’s little toy that was fun to play with and be around- 

Yeosang wasn’t someone that Wooyoung could like. Wooyoung liked playing with San when the other planned pranks on their captain. Wooyoung liked Yunho who actually understood his engineering jargon. Wooyoung liked Mingi who was funny and Jongho who never backed down from his stupid challenges. 

Wooyoung just… sat with Yeosang.

Just sat and watched him work, and dragged him to come watch him work, and explained things he  _ knew  _ Yeosang didn’t understand, and told Yeosang to explain things that he  _ knew  _ Wooyoung could never understand- 

Wooyoung didn’t like Yeosang, he just existed with Yeosang. 

But from the moment Wooyoung had laid eyes on Yeosang, he had been flirting. Not even flirting. Playing with him. Teasing him. Good natured and lighthearted, so Yeosang never took it seriously. 

How the hell could Wooyoung have been serious? 

“Is… is it that weird?” Wooyoung questioned slowly. “I- I honestly thought you just weren’t interested, I didn’t… I thought I was being obvious. San told me there was no way you didn’t know…I… I thought you were smart enough to figure it out.” 

_ Your brain is sexy _ . 

“But why me?” Yeosang demanded. “You’ve barely known me a year, and most of that time has either been spent in silence or me yelling at you for being stupid.” 

Wooyoung shrugged, as if he wasn’t really concerned with it. “I mean… if I get butterflies in my stomach just from that, imagine what happens when you actually show affection.” 

Butterflies… 

Holy shit, Wooyoung was serious. 

It was true, Yeosang did prefer Wooyoung’s company- being the most comfortable knowing him longest (by several minutes)- only second to Seonghwa (but that was because silence and polite conversation were hard to come by with the others). 

And did Yeosang genuinely consider Wooyoung his best friend? Yes. But he couldn’t show that. He didn’t know  _ how _ . He only knew how to tell he cared by berating him for getting hurt, no matter how insignificant. 

But apparently Wooyoung had been shooting signals into Yeosang’s face and Yeosang didn’t take him seriously enough to think he was being genuine. 

And despite not being that close, Yeosang suddenly felt like they were too close for propriety. 

Wooyoung stared at him, waiting, and Yeosang was going to need him to keep waiting because he didn’t know what the fuck to do. 

He wanted to start listing all the reasons Wooyoung was wrong- all the chemicals in his brain that were creating that feeling, all the hormones running through him that were influencing him- 

But he couldn’t. 

Yeosang thought Wooyoung would remain silent, but then Wooyoung smiled gently, almost amused. “Wanna kiss me?” he offered quietly. “Just to check?” 

Kiss him. 

Yeosang was going to throw up. He hadn’t thrown up since Year 1 at the academy, the first time he saw a brain cut open. But here Wooyoung was, making Yeosang feel like he was about to drown in bile. 

Wooyoung… didn’t need to play and chat and jargon with Yeosang?

Existing with him… was good enough? Without Yeosang’s real affection or acknowledgement? Just…. Existing?

He.... 

“What are you going to do if I do?” Yeosang asked, throat closing up with something that tasted too close to fear. 

Wooyoung frowned at the question, as if he wasn’t sure why Yeosang felt the need to ask it. “Um. Well,” he said, thinking it over. “If you don’t like it… I’ll… not ask again?” he almost-questioned, as if this was something that should be obvious. “And if you do… I’ll ask to do it again?” He lifted his hand, wiggling it, as if asking for Yeosang’s opinion on that course of action. 

Yeosang wet his lips, feeling like this was way too much for three in the morning. He opened his mouth, closed it, and felt another urge to vomit. 

Yeosang never made a decision, but it felt like a fight or flight reaction, his hands coming out to grab Wooyoung and bring him forward against his lips. 

Okay, so maybe Yeosang had been too focused on school to ever  _ actually  _ kiss someone. Lots of people asked, but Yeosang didn’t have time for the drama it might cause, so he just never did it. 

So maybe his and Wooyoung’s teeth clacked together, and Wooyoung hissed a little at the sting, and Yeosang almost pulled away, ready to go inject himself with a very powerful anesthetic and hope he never woke up- 

But then Wooyoung’s hand was on his arm- not grabbing and holding, but gentle where it slid up it, making Yeosang shiver at the touch. 

For someone who was an acclaimed genius, Yeosang’s brain promptly checked out. 

Why was he just  _ sitting there _ , just fucking resting his lips against Wooyoung’s _ \-  _ fucking  _ move- _

The hand trailing up his arm reached his neck, squeezing the muscle at the back of it gently, and a puff of air escaped Yeosang because that felt nice- 

Wooyoung’s lips moved slowly against Yeosang’s- very careful and very slow. 

Yeosang didn’t know what he was supposed to do, but Wooyoung carefully guided Yeosang a little closer- 

Yeosang was trained to subdue aliens and humans alike from his time at the prison. If he wanted to stop Wooyoung, he  _ could _ . 

But Yeosang could not currently think of the name of the chemical reaction burning in his stomach, so he stayed still, shifting closer at Wooyoung’s gentle invitation. 

And of course, Yeosang had not been thinking about it while trying to restart his lungs, but he noticed now that Wooyoung’s lips were soft. 

And then they were gone. 

Wooyoung pulled away a couple of inches, expression carefully controlled, but his eyes  _ bursting  _ with a similar delight to when he got a new part for  _ Illusion _ . 

“Well?” He breathed. “How was that?” 

Yeosang’s brain still hadn’t come back online, and that was getting troublesome. 

“I-” 

Wooyoung’s eyes were bright, and Yeosang… Yeah, Yeosang had always been pulled in by his eyes that lit up at every little thing. It was common to find Wooyoung bouncing off the walls, but it was rare to find him silent and soft. 

Yeosang found him like that when he would look up unexpectedly from his work, Wooyoung stared at him with something that was  _ fond _ . 

“Yeah.” 

Wooyoung burst out into laughter. “Yeah  _ what _ ?” he questioned. “Yeah, it was good? Yeah, you want to throw me out an airlock?”

Yeosang felt like something was trying to crawl up his throat, Wooyoung doing all of this so  _ easily _ . “Yeah,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even. “You can ask again.”

Yeosang expected fireworks out of Wooyoung, but, in fact, his smile faded into something softer. His eyes dimming to something fonder, warmer. 

Yeosang’s lungs officially checked out. 

“Can I kiss you, Yeosang?” 

Heart failing, too. 

Yeosang could only nod. 

Wooyoung was still gentle, but a little more firm in his guidings. Yeosang wasn’t able to do much but sit there as Wooyoung’s lips moved against his, until Wooyoung paused without taking his mouth from Yeosang’s. 

“Just do whatever,” Wooyoung chuckled softly. “Be natural.” 

Yeosang wound up accidentally biting Wooyoung’s tongue when it entered his mouth startlingly. There was a flurry of apologies and laughter. 

It would take them a while to get it down, but with practice and time, they perfected each other. 


	2. Sight to Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was sooooo much fun!!!  
I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!  
Please comment and let me know what you thought!  
Have an amazing day, lovelies!  
-SS

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now landing in Alcene.” 

“There are no ladies on board, San,” Hongjoong muttered. 

“We don’t know that. When was the last time someone checked the cargo holds for stowaways?”

“Just make the announcement to meet outside the ship,” Seonghwa sighed, standing and cracking his back after making sure they didn’t burn up on entering the atmosphere. “I’m ready to stand on some solid ground.” 

San saluted. “Aye, Pilot.” 

“Smartass.” 

San left, and Seonghwa turned his eyes to Hongjoong. His eyes were open, staring at nothing and still a little bloodshot. 

“How do you want to work this?” Seonghwa questioned. “If you wanted, we could have any potential parties come here.” It would give Hongjoong an advantage. 

Hongjoong shook his head, turning. “No one worth our time would ever meet with us here. Just…” His mouth twisted, clearly weighing which was worse: people viewing him as weak for being guided by a member of his crew or people viewing him as weak for stumbling around in the unfamiliar territory. 

“Just get me to the people,” Hongjoong sighed, rubbing at his face. “I’ll let you know what I need.” 

Seonghwa nodded firmly. “Understood.” 

Alcene was a nice planet. Bright, sunny, and a market place that was always thriving. 

Not those dirt ones with leather tents and people yelling their wares at you. Alcene had a richer taste- smooth white concrete to walk on and pure white canvas tents where people displayed jewels and spices and tech worth  _ millions _ . 

Or worth just the right trade. 

They all stepped out, Wooyoung stretching in the sunlight. Seonghwa glanced at Yeosang. “He’s good to be walking about?” 

Yeosang glared at Wooyoung. “I’d prefer he take another day, but I ran all the tests and as long as he isn’t picking any fights, he’ll be fine.” 

“And you need me to explain what half the tech we’re selling does,” Wooyoung reminded him, grinning. He jumped a few times, stretching his limbs that were still bandages. “See? I’m fine. Just a little sore.” 

“Yunho can explain just fine-” 

“We’re splitting up,” Hongjoong announced. “Two groups. Everyone knows what we need, bargain for what you can.” 

“Medicines,” Yeosang said firmly. “Burn and regenerative, especially. The  _ good  _ stuff.” 

Everyone saluted, breaking into their little groups. (Yeosang had silently insisted that he go with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, mostly to ensure that the sunlight and air didn’t irritate Hongjoong’s eyes any further. This, of course, meant that Wooyoung came, too.) 

Hongjoong kept a loose hand on Seonghwa, only using him as a guide to not run into anything. He held him confidently, fooling all the world into believing this handicap did not affect him. 

“Power links,” Wooyoung said suddenly, jerking to a stop in front of a tent. “Ooh,” he cooed. “These are  _ new _ .” 

Seonghwa turned Hongjoong near the stall, and the moment he stopped walking, Hongjoong released his arm. “Afternoon,” Wooyoung greeted. “We’re interested in trading for some power links.” 

“These are very popular,” the man assured them. Seonghwa watched Hongjoong’s eyes focus on him, locating him by his voice. “But, unfortunately, they are quite expensive because of how new they are.” 

Wooyoung could haggle a price like no one else. Even Hongjoong’s hard ass style failed at times, though most people appreciated his attitude. Among the upper class, though, Wooyoung’s charm was a little more valuable. 

Within ten minutes, and only at the loss of six energy tubes, Wooyoung clutched the power links to his chest, beaming. “I’ve only seen ones this new in catalogues!” he gushed. “Look at their fucking vents! They’re sparkling!” 

Despite everything, Seonghwa saw Hongjoong’s lips twitch. Yeosang took the links, putting them in his bag while Wooyoung whined at the loss. “Battery cell, twelve o’clock,” Yeosang said, pointing. 

Within the hour, they had gained almost half of what they needed, at a shockingly low amount of their own stuff. Some of them were hardasses about their prices, but where Wooyoung’s charm failed, Hongjoong stepped forward with a glare that burned even without his sight. 

“Yunho says they’re not finding burn medicines,” Wooyoung reported, glancing at his pocket screen. “Should Yeosang and I split off to grab some?” Wooyoung questioned. 

“All we need to find is one more energy plate,” Seonghwa said,frowning. “It would be best to stick together.” 

“He’s right,” Hongjoong said firmly. “Alcene gets dicey sometimes, I want us to stay as a group.” 

The energy plate was found and retrieved at two weeks of food rations. 

“Look, an apothecary!” Wooyoung said, pointing at the end of one row. “Let’s grab the medicine and get back to the ship. I wanna put in those power links.” 

Seonghwa chuckled, and watched as it was Yeosang’s turn to stare longingly at the medicines sitting before them. 

“Look at these brands,” he practically whispered, not even touching them out of reverence. “Just one of these is probably worth more than  _ Illusion _ . They have Marcellin!” he gasped, pointing to one rancid looking green vial. “How on earth is this here? It’s a small fortune in and of itself-” 

Seonghwa didn’t even have to look at Wooyoung to know that he was smiling like a lovesick fool at Yeosang, hearts in his eyes and the softest smile you would ever see on his lips. 

It was disgusting, but alarmingly endearing. 

“Burcelin! And Hyperfume!” 

A man rounded the table, laughing. “Well, it’s not often to find someone who knows what they’re talking about,” he chuckled, red faced and thick around the neck and stomach area. He grinned at them with a few too many teeth. “Most people just like looking at the pretty colors.” His grin widened just a touch. “Of course, I can respect wanting to look at pretty things.” 

His eyes traced over Yeosang’s face much too slowly. 

Seonghwa snatched Wooyoung’s wrist before the other could make a move, glaring at him to remain silent. They just needed to get these medicines and leave. They couldn’t afford a fight on their hands. Wooyoung glared back, but thankfully remained silent, jaw tightening. 

Yeosang looked at the man, careful not to show his obvious disgust as he made a disinterested noise. He turned back to the vials. 

“Yeosang, just find the ones we need,” Hongjoong said firmly. “The others will be waiting.” 

Yeosang hummed in understanding, scanning the table of flasks, picking up certain ones and examining them. 

“What brings you to look for medicines here?” the man questioned cordially, stepping a little closer. Seonghwa squeezing Wooyoung’s wrist firmly when he twitched. 

But everyone knew the first rule to trying to barter:  _ make them like you _ . And honestly, if this guy took a fancy to Yeosang, they might even have luck in talking down the price. So long as things stayed in hand, they were okay. 

“I lost most of my collection on our ship,” Yeosang muttered, squinting at the writing on one bottle. “I have to restock before we leave.” 

“Well, if you’re interested in better brands, I have several-” 

“I know which ones I need,” Yeosang assured him, not even looking at the man. “They’ve worked well for me.” 

He finally had a collection of a dozen bottles before him. “These,” he announced, turning to the man who stepped forward to examine them. Yeosang took a half-step back to keep a distance. 

“How much?” Wooyoung asked, voice alarmingly calm. “We’ve got mostly tech, but if you’re interested in food rations, we have some left.” 

The man hummed, rubbing at his chin. “Well, these medicines would be quite expensive together,” he muttered, doing every merchant’s act. “And they’re quite popular around here as well… so I’d need something worth at least 98 Bec-Credits.” 

“Are you insane?” Seonghwa burst without thinking. 

“That’s a swindle!” Yeosang snapped, glaring. “These are all common brand, easily accessible medicines that you could order a hundred for that price!” 

“We’re not paying that much for a few burn ointments,” Wooyoung stated sharply. “That’s a fucking scam.” 

The man shrugged. “That’s the price I want for them,” he said easily. “However, if you can’t afford such a price…” His eyes fell on Yeosang, glinting as a hand come out, grabbing his chin and turning his head firmly to examine him darkly. “A couple of rounds with your friend would be worth as much.” 

Yeosang stiffened. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, disgust and shock shooting through him at an alarming speed. A silent rage that was building in his chest- 

Before the blinding anger even took root in his chest, Wooyoung’s wrist was gone from between his fingers. 

“ _ Wooyoung _ !” Yeosang’s voice shouted. 

The man was on the ground with blood pouring from his nose before Seonghwa even registered what the hell was going on. 

Yeosang was shoving Wooyoung back to Seonghwa, expression stormy as he turned back to the man cursing on the ground, blood hitting the pristine pavement. 

“That’s gonna be broken,” Yeosang said, voice dark and dangerous. “I’d get something to clot it with before you choke on your own blood.” 

The man sat up slowly, glaring murderously. “You fucking bastard-” 

Yeosang planted a foot on his chest, shoving him back to the ground hard enough his head hit the pavement. “Touch me again,” he growled lowly. “And I’ll break parts of you you didn’t know you  _ had _ .” 

He turned, not even looking at the three of them as he stormed back towards the ship, the vials left forgotten on the table. Some people looked over, muttering to themselves. 

So far, no authorities had been called, but Seonghwa didn’t want to wait around. He grabbed Hongjoong’s arm and pulled him along, feeling a spike of guilt as the other stumbled with the sudden movement, but caught himself quickly.

Wooyoung wisely remaining back with them as Yeosang got further ahead. 

“Yeosang,” Seonghwa called. “Don’t get too far ahead, we’re still sticking together.” 

Pissed off or not, there was still a hierarchy, and Yeosang slowed enough to stay in their sights, but not more than that. 

“That was a very dumb thing to do, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong muttered. Even not seeing what happened, it wasn’t hard to guess. 

“You heard him!” Wooyoung snapped. “He  _ grabbed  _ him, he was-” 

“He hadn’t done anything yet,” Seonghwa said. “As pissed as I am about it, it was a rash decision. If that man had been someone more important in the marketplace, we wouldn’t just be walking away from that sort of attack.” 

“He touched him-” 

“And if it was something Yeosang found unbearable, the man’s arm would have been popped out his socket before he even finished speaking,” Hongjoong said sternly, glaring ahead. “I’m not saying you were in the wrong, but you weren’t smart about it.” 

Wooyoung huffed, arms crossing, glaring. 

They reached  _ Illusion _ , and Seonghwa paused with Hongjoong while Yeosang stormed inside, Wooyoung following him after only a moment. “Everything went smooth?” Yunho asked, glancing pointedly at the two rushing inside the ship. 

“A small bump, Wooyoung punched a guy,” Hongjoong said heavily. “We’re good for now, but I want to get out of here. As soon as Wooyoung is done sucking up to Yeosang, get him working on having all our systems back online, got it?” 

“Sure.” 

“Everyone who was bartered with came and got what they were promised?” Seonghwa asked. 

“Yep,” Yunho assured them. “The last guy just came and grabbed his newest shield tech.” 

“Great,” Hongjoong said. “Get everyone working on putting  _ Illusion  _ back together, and let me know the moment we’re ready to get the hell out of here. Seonghwa and I will be in our quarters for a moment, alright?” 

Yunho nodded, not at all perturbed. 

Seonghwa, on the other hand, stared at Hongjoong as if he could see his shock. 

They very,  _ very  _ rarely went to their quarters outside of sleeping, if there was work to do. 

But Yunho saluted, walking off, and Hongjoong began to move forward, so Seonghwa shoved down the part of him that wanted to demand what the hell was wrong. They walked through _ Illusion _ , Seonghwa muttering small commands to watch his step or duck. 

They reached their quarters, and Seonghwa was ready to yank Hongjoong back and demand he talk to him right now- 

They stepped in, the door sliding closed behind them, and no sooner than they were alone was Hongjoong turning, colliding into Seonghwa chest and embracing him tight enough to cut off air, hands fisted in the back of his jacket. 

Seonghwa returned it without thinking, pulling Hongjoong flush against him as Hongjoong breathed out harshly against his chest. 

“What?” he asked, carefully keeping his voice low as he rested his head against Hongjoong’s. “What’s wrong?” 

Hongjoong was an amazing actor. It was his greatest asset and Seonghwa’s worst nightmare when the facades finally broke away. 

“ _ Everything _ ,” he hissed, face pressing against his shoulder, hard. “The whole day I’ve been waiting to run into something, I can’t see even though my eyes are open, and that fucker touched Yeosang like he was some bartering chip-” 

He breathed out harshly, something about it shaking. 

“And I didn’t even do a thing- It was so fucking  _ loud _ , I could brealy keep up with where that fucker was- He wanted us to fucking- To give Yeosang- And I couldn’t even fucking hear-” 

Seonghwa rubbed up and down his back soothingly, letting him rant into his chest, even if half of it made no sense for how intently he hissed it, how spiteful and bitter his voice came through. 

And Seonghwa felt a thin needle of guilt press into his chest. Because he forgot that Hongjoong was relying mostly on his hearing to operate, but Seonghwa hadn’t even thought about the shouting and chatter that the rest of them easily tuned out. 

But guilt would get him nowhere, so he simply held Hongjoong firmly, anchoring him as he cursed and hissed into his chest, slowly losing his fire the longer he went on. 

Seonghwa just kept holding on, knowing that once the anger he wasn’t allowed to have had run its course, they would be able to return to their duties. 

Seonghwa could only think of a handful of time that Hongjoong had ever needed to step away from the captaincy to release everything that had built up. But, he supposed, Hongjoong had never been so harshly handicapped before. 

But Seonghwa would wait, letting it run its course, and then he would kiss Hongjoong gently, to remind him he wasn’t alone, and they would head back into hellfire that was their crew. 

And Hongjoong would thank him later, and apologize for losing it, but Seonghwa would simply kiss him again, harder this time, more playful, and tell him to stop running his mouth if it wasn’t going to do anything useful. 

These weren’t all that different from the first kiss they had shared that had been sprung abruptly and ended up with Hongjoong being pressed back against his station as Seonghwa kissed him. 

~~~~~~~

Bringing Seonghwa in as his pilot was the greatest decision Hongjoong had ever made. 

Aside from being an absolutely amazing pilot who could maneuver them through an asteroid field without batting an eye, he was learning all the little tricks to get  _ Illusion  _ to push her limits beautifully. 

And, God, was it beautiful to watch Seonghwa get reckless with it. 

“We need a boost!” Seonghwa shouted over the screaming of the alarm. “Wooyoung, get us more power-” 

“There’s nothing left!” Wooyoung shouted back, staticy. “They fucked all of our wires!” 

Hongjoong cursed, watching the power light fade closer and closer to completely dead. 

“You can’t get any power to the thrusters?” Hongjoong demanded, the heat monitor screaming as they sped up, crashing towards the planet’s surface- gravity taking their dead-in-the-water ship and dragging it down. 

“Nothing!” Seonghwa growled, frustration reigning. “I can’t even ease our fall!”

“Mingi!”

“We’ve got nothing, boss,” Mingi yelled over the alarm. 

“Load weapons into the chambers facing the planet!” Seonghwa ordered without consulting Hongjoong. “Whatever big ones we have!” 

“On it,” Mingi answered without hesitation. 

“I don’t think we have ones big enough to blow of a planet, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong snapped.

“I want explosives, Mingi!” 

“Roger!” 

“Seonghwa, what the hell-” 

“If we detonate them far enough away, the blast wave might be enough to shove us out of the atmosphere, but we have to act now,” Seonghwa snapped, hands flying. 

“You’d have to account for how fast we’re falling, when they’re fired, how fast-” 

“Yeah, I got that, Hongjoong,” he snapped. “Just get Wooyoung ready to throw everything he can find into our thrusters.” 

Hongjoong wanted to say that it was insane, but it was either trust the crazy bastard or burn up on entry. 

Within a minute, Seonghwa was sitting, knuckles white on the steering. “Mingi!”

“We’re ready,” he assured him. 

Hongjoong’s eyes trained on the dial in front of him, not able to even blink as he held his breath. Seonghwa breathed out slowly. “Any second now, Hongjoong,” he muttered. 

“Hold,” Hongjoong told him, watching their numbers climb closer to the surface- 

“Fire!” 

Weapons discharged audibly, the distant sound of power exploding behind them as Seonghwa slammed a button down, their ship jerking and creaking but- 

She fucking moved with the aid. 

“Clear of atmosphere!” Hongjoong burst, relief audible as he marveled at not setting themselves on fire with that. “We’re drifting, but if can wait for Wooyoung to get the energy banks back online, we can make it to another planet.” He whipped around to see Seonghwa standing on somewhat shaky legs, looking pale with relief. 

Hongjoong turned in a circle, adrenaline and relief making him shake with glee. His face split into a grin. “That was fucking brilliant!” Hongjoong burst, face feeling like it was splitting open with how hard he beamed. “That was-  _ Fuck  _ getting a 700 on the Sim- put  _ that  _ shit on your resume, you brilliant motherfucker!”

He turned back to Seonghwa, ready to start another round of explosive praise- 

The small of his back was suddenly pressed back against the console, and Hongjoong only caught sight a blinding smile on Seonghwa’s face before lips were pressing against his own insistently. 

Hongjoong stiffened for only a moment, before his mind clicked back into place and he melted into Seonghwa’s body pressing against his, kissing him back roughly. 

_ Fucking finally. _

Hongjoong dragged him closer, and Seonghwa responded willingly, gripping Hongjoong’s sides as Hongjoong looped his arms around his neck. 

Aside from the fact that from anyone’s point of view Seonghwa was ridiculously attractive, Hongjoong had practically fallen in love with the man’s brilliance and persistence that matched Hongjoong’s crazy idea for crazy idea. 

Ever since that bastard barrel rolled them between two attacking cruisers, Hongjoong had been ready and willing for this to happen. 

Because the spark in Seonghwa’s eyes when he steered the ship between exploding stars was fucking beautiful, and Hongjoong woke up at night terrified that it had all been a dream and that pilot from the academy had never shown up at 0600. 

Seonghwa pulled back when oxygen ran too low, and Hongjoong stared at his eyes that were as bright as if he were flying through nebulas. 

“That was brilliant,” Hongjoong whispered, unable to keep the stupid smile off of his face. 

Seonghwa’s matched his. “That was some smooth chart calling, Captain.” 

And despite the adrenaline rushing through their veins, Hongjoong could tell from the look in his eyes that this wasn’t just a celebratory thing. 

Especially not when Seonghwa ducked back down and did it again. 

~~~~~~~~

“Yeosang, you can’t get mad at me for standing up for you-” 

“Does it  _ look  _ like I can’t?” Yeosang snapped, turning around with a sharp glare that made Wooyoung stop his attempt at placating. “Because I can tell you, Wooyoung, that right now, I am  _ quite  _ pissed.” 

“He fucking touched you!” Wooyoung fought. “He wanted us to use your as a fucking barter chip-” 

“Did Hongjoong have any plan on going through with that?” Yeosang demanded.

“Fuck no-” 

“Then why are you acting like the guy already had a hand down my pants?” Yeosang snapped. “You act without thinking, Wooyoung, and then get defensive when you’re told it was wrong! You’re still injured and you wanted to start a fucking brawl!  _ Now  _ we have no med-” 

“So I was supposed to just  _ let  _ that happen?”

“You’re acting as if I actually would have let that guy fuck me,” Yeosang burst, fists clenching. “If I had thought he was crossing a line-” 

“He  _ was  _ crossing a line!” 

Yeosang opened his mouth, prepared to continue this on until the end of fucking time, but he stopped himself. 

Because it didn’t matter. Both of them would keep yelling until they were blue in the face and still never get anywhere. Wooyoung had just been trying to help. Yeosang was just trying to get him to understand why that could have potentially been dangerous. 

Both of them understood this, so there was no point in arguing when there was no right answer. 

But Yeosang’s blood was still thrumming, so he sighed, turning away, going to seek the solitude of his office. 

“Don’t,” Wooyoung fought, catching his hand and turning him back around. His expression was torn between anger and pleading. “You always walk away when we fight-” 

“Isn’t that better than standing here yelling and getting nowhere?” Yeosang questioned sternly, forcing his voice to remain calm. “What are we accomplishing here- but giving ourselves a headache? I need a minute,” he muttered, pulling his arm away. 

Wooyoung didn’t try to stop him again. 

Yeosang couldn’t focus enough to actually look through his inventory or check the equipment like he usually did, so he just sat there, resting his head against his desk until he could count to twenty without wanted to scream. 

“Alright, guys,” Hongjoong’s voice came over the ship-wide speaker. “We’ve got enough done that we’re taking off. Everyone will continue with what repairs and upgrades need to happen, but we’re getting the hell off this planet. We’re heading a couple of systems over to try our luck with more trading. I’ll let you know when we’re close.” 

He cut off, and Yeosang knew he had officially been sulking for too long. 

He peeled himself away from his desk, scrubbing at his face. He supposed it was time for the painful part. 

He walked out of Medical Bay, almost immediately running over Jongho who was crouched and working on some wall panel. 

“Where’s Wooyoung?” Yeosang questioned, the younger not looking away from his work. 

“Pouting in engineering,” He said pointedly. “Like he has been the past couple of hours.” 

Jongho threw a quick, pointed glance over his shoulder, and Yeosang sighed. “I’m going,” he assured him, walking away. 

The walk to engineering seemed to take several years, Yeosang trying to figure out what he wanted to say. 

Was Wooyoung right? No. He could have gotten them into serious shit. He could have gotten them all thrown in some jail or fighting off a crowd of people or running from the authorities. He could have actually started a fight and gotten his injuries worsened. 

Wooyoung, of course, knew this. It had happened before. 

Was Yeosang right to be as mad as he had been? Probably not. Once he knew there wasn’t that much danger, he should have backed off. It wasn’t even that he was mad at Wooyoung for not letting him handle it. He just hated when Wooyoung got all fired up at the wrong times. 

His most endearing quality was the most painful to deal with. 

So Yeosang stood outside of engineering for about five minutes before sighing, pressing the button to open the door. 

Rather than hanging from the rafters or crawling around in the duct work, Wooyoung was laying on his back on the ground, settled beneath a shield-cell that was suspended above him by two boxes it sat on. 

Wooyoung glanced out from under it for a moment, his eyes falling on Yeosang for only a moment before he resumed his work. “Hey,” he greeted flatly. 

Yeosang sighed shallowly, knowing one of them had to make the first move. “I’m sorry I shouted,” he said genuinely. Wooyoung’s arms slowed their work before stopping, listening. “I should have backed off once it was clear we were okay. But you’re hot-headed and this isn’t the first time you’ve almost gotten us in trouble.” 

Yeosang waited for him to get defensive or offended, but there was just a quiet sigh, his arms falling to his side as he slid out from under the machinery. He didn’t get up, staring up at Yeosang from the floor. 

“I get that,” he said, accepting it. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to actually attack him, but he…” His jaw tightened as he sat up. “You can’t blame me for getting pissed at him.” 

Wooyoung wasn’t what Yeosang would describe as over-protective. He didn’t usually have much reason to be, Yeosang usually tucked away safely in his office. 

It was Wooyoung who was touching live wires and leaping from bulkheads. Yeosang was the one who snapped and slapped him for taking risks that came as naturally to him as breathing. 

But in the few moments where Yeosang wasn’t quite so safely tucked away, Wooyoung tended to use that fiery brilliance and turn it into trouble. 

“I don’t blame you for hitting him,” Yeosang sighed. “That dude was fucking creepy.” He rubbed at his jaw where he had grabbed him. 

In truth, Yeosang himself had almost been a millisecond away from breaking his wrist, but Wooyoung beat him to it. 

“And I shouldn’t have gotten that mad. But you did put all of us at risk, pulling a stunt like that.” 

Wooyoung looked away, blowing out a long breath. “Yeah,” he said, voice heavy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.” 

Yeosang wished it was easier to stay mad at him. 

“Come here,” Yeosang said, beckoning him over with a hand. 

Wooyoung stood silently, looking at Yeosang like he still expected to be berated. Yeosang simply sighed, stepping up and hugging him lightly. 

(Usually, he would make a big deal about Wooyoung being covered in sweat and grease and smelling like ozone, but this time he made an allowance.) 

Wooyoung rested his head against Yeosang’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he muttered again, hugging him back. 

Yeosang sighed. “Me, too,” he assured him. He felt the urge to kiss his hair, but he was a little too sweaty for that, so Yeosang just squeezed his side gently. 

Wooyoung pulled away, face a little lighter. “But seriously, I was gonna break his fucking ribs, if you hadn’t pulled me away.” 

Yeosang’s lips twitched. “I would have helped.” 

Wooyoung leaned in, and Yeosang promptly put up a hand, Wooyoung’s lips resting against his palm. 

“ _ Why _ ?” Wooyoung practically whine, shoving his hand away and pushing his lips out petulantly. “I thought we were  _ cool _ .”

“We are,” Yeosang assured him, stepping back. “But you’ve been angrily working on upgrades for two hours, and you’re gross.” 

“You hugged me!” 

“And you should feel grateful for that, because now I feel the need to shower,” Yeosang informed him. 

“ _ Yeosang- _ ” 

“You can kiss me tonight, after you shower,” He stated firmly. “I’ll be in my quarters.” With a much too satisfied smile, Yeosang turned, leaving Wooyoung huffing behind him. 

He didn’t know why they bothered calling them ‘my’ quarters or ‘yours.’ It wasn’t like there was much of a line between them anyway. 

Yeosang tried to help around the ship where he could, but a mechanic, he was not. 

(“It’s okay,” Hongjoong had assured him when he brought it up years ago. “You’re the only one among these mechanics who can set a limb properly. You just focus on keeping the people running who keep my ship running, alright?”) 

He walked up to the control room with Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and San (acting as Hongjoong’s eyes). 

“Any irritation?” Yeosang questioned as Hongjoong’s hands moved accurately without seeing. 

“No.” 

“Any intense, abnormal pain?”

“No.” 

“You’ve been taking your pills and putting on the ointment?”

“Every day.” 

“Has your vision improved at all? Any vision of shadows or sensing light?” 

“Not that I can tell.” 

Yeosang hummed. “I can get better quality regenerative pills wherever we stop,” Yeosang muttered, almost to himself. “If I can get the right kind, it could speed up the process by a few days.” 

“Anything that gets this shit sorted out faster, it’s worth it,” Hongjoong muttered stiffly. 

Yeosang saw Seonghwa glance over at him before turning back to his station. 

Yeosang knew that Hongjoong was more freaked out than he was letting on. He knew that  _ most  _ of the time, Hongjoong’s confidence and nonchalance was an act. 

(You couldn’t lie to machines hooked up to your heart and head.) 

And Yeosang only respected him for carrying on, despite it. 

He only wished he could do more. 

“Did you and Wooyoung finally get your spat sorted out?” San questioned, the grin audible. 

“Are you asking if we fucked for make up sex?” Yeosang asked flatly. “Because the answer is no.” 

San snorted, looking over his shoulder with the most shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh, right,” he snickered. “He’s busy with repairs. You’ll wait until tonight.” 

“San, I’d appreciate if we stopped talking about people fucking while on duty,” Seonghwa said without looking his way. “Particularly Wooyoung and Yeosang’s.” 

“You  _ know  _ he’s into some shit.” 

“Yes, I do, which is why I don’t want to think about it. I’d rather not give into the instinct to crash this ship into the nearest sun.” 

Yeosang chuckled. “San, you might want to move to another room, if you don’t want a front row seat. I denied him a kiss earlier, and he’s gonna be pissed.” 

San gagged twice. “Please stop-” 

“He’ll probably want to drag it out,” Yeosang went on. “To make up for lost time-” 

“I’m  _ sorry _ ,” he burst, covering his ears. “I won’t bring up your sex life, just stop talking about it.” He gagged once more, and Yeosang smiled privately. 

“I’m going to take inventory one more time,” he said smugly. “Let me know when we have an ETA on wherever we’re going.” 

He was almost out of the room when he heard Hongjoong’s quiet: “I always forget that Yeosang is one scary ass motherfucker.” 

He couldn’t stop the burst of laughter in the silent hallway. 

~~~~~~~~

Space was beautiful. 

It was endless, swirling, perpetual darkness that was painted with swathes of color and life, each speck of it holding millions and billions and trillion of lifeforms. 

There were entire galaxies visible that could be blotted out with a single finger, and a hundred more that threatened to swallow you whole if you weren’t careful. 

There were colors that existed in space that could never be described. The kind of beauty that captivated and entranced and enthralled and provoked all the tiny, introspective questions most were too afraid to enact. 

The kind of beauty that swept all the air out of your lungs and made it seem like the sight before you could never get old. 

So, why, when faced with all that beautiful glory, was Hongjoong only looking at him? 

Seonghwa glanced at him from the corner of his eye, Hongjoong curled around his knees, cheek resting against his legs and watching Seonghwa quietly. 

“Do actually plan to do any observing in the observation deck?” Seonghwa questioned, lips quirking. Hongjoong didn’t turn away at being caught. 

He simply smiled. 

“I am observing,” he said quietly. “I spend all day staring at space. I wanna look at you for a while.” 

It was those rare moments where they were just sitting in orbit, able to leave their stations without the need of retiring to their quarters to sleep. Hongjoong had suggested they go to the quiet deck. There was no machinery to click and whir, so the two sat in silence save for the quiet hum of the ship. 

It was honestly nice, to be able to watch space go by without having to worry about what parts of it were trying to kill them. 

Seonghwa chuckled, stretching his legs out before him and leaning back on his hands. “Do I look very good after twelves hours of fighting through space lightning?” he questioned, heart oddly light. 

“Yeah…” 

Seonghwa scoffed, kicking at Hongjoong but not quite making it. “Shut up,” he chuckled. 

No sooner than he had stopped the attack, Hongjoong was climbing into his lap, legs straddling his and his face suddenly much closer to Seonghwa’s. 

Seonghwa’s didn’t panic like he used to, simply smirked as Hongjoong looped his arms around his neck, grinning. “You do,” Hongjoong pushed coyly. “And I found it especially sexy when you flipped the ship upside down and managed to shift the gravity field at the same time.” 

Seonghwa snorted, sitting up a little, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before falling back on his hands. “If you start getting turned on by me doing my job, our time in the control room is about to get a lot harder.” 

Hongjoong didn’t kiss him. Didn’t even move closer to him. Simply sat in his lap, smiling. 

“If you don’t think I would ask you to take me against the console-” 

“And we’re stopping that there,” Seonghwa snorted, clapping a hand over his mouth. Hongjoong’s eyes were sparkling like their own galaxies. “What happened to keeping it to our quarters?” 

“What about off duty?” Hongjoong grinned. “Wait until we’re planet side, all the others go out to bars or markets… and it’s just the two of us-” 

Seonghwa pressed the hand down harder, cutting him off. “You’re supposed to be the  _ responsible captain _ .” 

Hongjoong shook the hand off, sighing over-dramatically. “I always have to be the responsible captain.” 

“Should have thought of that before you picked up a crew,” Seonghwa tutted. “I told you we should have thought about it more before we had kids. But no, you saw  _ one  _ cute one and  _ had  _ to bring it home-” 

“He was a bartender!” Hongjoong fought. “That knew electrical engineering and  _ physics _ ! Yunho was the perfect choice.” He smirked. “Besides, you were the first kid I picked up.” 

“I’m older than you,” Seonghwa reminded him primly. “And since when do you beg your kids to take you against a console?” 

Hongjoong snorted, pulling Seonghwa closer and pressing a firm kiss to his lips- smiling almost too wide to really kiss him. 

A hand suddenly pushed against the inside of Seonghwa’s elbow, breaking the lock he had supporting him. 

He fell back, Hongjoong coming with him until their noses were brushing as they both lay flat on the ground. Seonghwa was going to call him an asshole, but Hongjoong was suddenly kissing him once more. 

Properly this time. 

The types of kiss that made Seonghwa forget about space and 0600 meet ups and kids and beautiful stars- 

There was just Hongjoong. Heavy against his chest and warm against his lips, and the familiar creak of his leather jacket the only sound aside from the small noises Hongjoong made as he pressed closer. 

He must be in a really good mood because they never would have gone so far, away from the reprieve of their quarters. 

But they were in orbit and Yunho was watching the console with San, and everything was okay for now. 

Seonghwa was sure (as Hongjoong sucked on his tongue) that any moment now, something would go wrong, but for now he simply licked into Hongjoong’s mouth, deep enough to almost make the other choke, but Hongjoong’s hands were trailing across his body at their leisure, nails dragging against the smooth fabric of his shirt. 

They got as far as Hongjoong taking off his jacket, Seonghwa’s hands roaming under his shirt to feel warm skin before San came across the intercom, reporting that Tower Control on the planet wanted to know what they were waiting for, just sitting in orbit. 

Hongjoong sighed, head falling between his shoulders, and Seonghwa almost felt a little bad as he pressed one last burning kiss to Hongjoong lips before sitting up with both of them, cradling Hongjoong in his lap for a moment. 

“I don’t regret having kids,” Hongjoong sighed, picking his jacket back up. “But I hate you for letting me get so many at once.” 

Seonghwa slapped his ass until he stood up. Hongjoong helped him to his feet, sighing wistfully. “I guess we’re just gonna have to stay up late tonight and be tired tomorrow.” He shook his head slowly. “And I was really looking forward to sex in the observation deck.” 

Seonghwa pushed him towards the door. “That’s what you get for trying to start something while people are still awake to ruin it.” 

(It’s not like they hadn’t done that before. But they tried to avoid it after one awkward situation of Hongjoong showing up wearing Seonghwa’s shirt with the academy logo on it. The crew hadn’t let them live that down for years.) 

Hongjoong turned back around, stealing one more kiss. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s go be responsible and tell the planet to fuck off.” 

He could have glanced out the observation window as they left, but he simply watched Hongjoong. 

~~~~~~~

Sintav was a much better planet than Alcene. 

Granted, Sintav’s richest person was probably worth only half of any given person on Alcene, but the markets were a little more their style. A little less up tight. 

There were no tents. Just tables and people standing around on the dirt roads, holding things out and shouting prices. Fists fights almost broke out here and there when a price was argued. 

Just their type. 

“Alright,” Hongjoong said to those gathered. “Yeosang is going to get his medicines. Wooyoung, can you refrain from starting a riot to go with him?” 

Hongjoong could hear the roll of his eyes. “Yes.” 

“I swear to God, if the two of you come sprinting back here with a crowd on your ass-” 

“We  _ won’t _ ,” Wooyoung huffed. “Just trust us, hyung.” 

“Don’t let him pick up anymore battery cells,” Hongjoong ordered. “We have enough.” 

“ _ Hyung _ .” 

“I’ll keep him on his leash,” Yeosang promised, snorting. 

San gagged. “I  _ said  _ stop talking about your sex life.” 

There was the sound of a scuffle before Seonghwa barked for them to stop. “Both of you, break it up. Yeosang, get going.” 

Through the din of the market, Hongjoong heard them leave, Wooyoung trying to ease Yeosang’s annoyance by acting cute as the other undeniably dragged him off. 

“We only have a few things left to get,” Hongjoong told the rest of them, a small shift in his chest. “But we don’t have much left to trade, so work with what you can.” 

His eyes twitched as he glanced around, but saw nothing but black before him. 

“You’re not coming?” Mingi’s voice sounded, muffled by the market noise. Horses pulled things and vendors yelled and people stormed through like cattle. 

Hongjoong tried to pinpoint the exact location of Mingi, but he was sure he missed. “It’s just a couple of things. Seonghwa and I are going to take apart the piloting system and make sure nothing more needs to be tweaked before we take off again.” 

Hongjoong could feel them exchange glances. He forced his hands not to form frustrated fists. He forced another breath through the suffocating wall. 

“Just get what we need and try and use as little money as you can. Got it?” 

The others gave their assent, and Hongjoong barely heard them leave through the rushing of his own blood and the planet around them. 

He turned quickly, rushing back towards the ramp- 

Seonghwa caught his arm, making him jerk at the unexpected touch, a firm hand guiding him slightly to the left. “Don’t hit the entry lifts,” He said quietly. 

Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa was the best person for him to be helpless in front of, but that didn’t make it easy. 

Hongjoong pulled away, walking up the ramp quickly, just wanting to get back into familiar territory- 

He expected the ramp to continue but it ended abruptly, his foot catching on the lip and sending him stumbling- 

Seonghwa caught him again before he slammed his face into the metal ground, righting him gently. “Hongjoong-” 

Hongjoong pulled away, the market echoing in the metal container they stood in. He groped for the ladder, sticking his feet in and climbing as quickly as he could. 

The hallway was quieter, allowing him the smallest amount of relief, but then he heard Seonghwa climbing up after him quietly. 

Hongjoong didn’t know what his face looked like. Didn’t want to know if it was pitying or sorry or apologetic or worried or annoyed. 

Whatever his face was, his hands were gentle. “Hongjoong, talk to me,” he requested in a whisper. 

Nothing more than that. Just a simple request that Hongjoong had heard a million times before, at every meeting they had within their quarters. 

Hongjoong didn’t know what Seonghwa’s expression was. He didn’t know which shirt he was wearing, he didn’t know if he was smiling or frowning or glaring- 

There was so much he didn’t know. 

“I’m getting a fucking headache from the all this fucking noise,” he hissed, rubbing at his ears that almost seemed to ache. “I can’t- It’s all getting jumbled and I can’t fucking do anything about it, it’s so fucking annoying-” 

Hongjoong couldn’t quite articulate all the exact feelings in his chest. He never could. 

Somehow, he never could quite find the words to voice: I can’t see and I’m terrified about all the things that I’m missing, and I’m scared shitless that this might not go away. 

But Seonghwa never needed to know what exactly was wrong. He just needed Hongjoong to stop drowning himself in it. To pull the plug and let it drain away. It didn’t matter what was being drained. 

“- I can’t fucking stand the thought of all of them seeing me like this,” he burst. “I don’t care if they don’t think it’s weak. I don’t care- I am helpless right now, Seonghwa,” he snapped. “The moment I step off this ship, I am screwed unless someone is with me. I’m not- I don’t mind letting you help, but I’ve never had to rely on someone like that before, and it’s fucking hard- I’ve lost so much freedom and I  _ hate  _ it-” 

Hongjoong wanted to pull his hair out. It had been days like this and he was trying- he was trying so hard to just wait, to trust that Yeosang was right and soon his sight would return, but Hongjoong was terrified. 

He could see no viable way he could keep captaining with his sight taken from him. 

“I can barely recognize my own  _ ship _ ! I’m stumbling around like I’ve never been here, and almost running into things. I’m tripping and stumbling and making an absolute idiot of myself, and I can barely  _ breathe  _ sometimes because there’s just  _ darkness _ , Seonghwa, there’s  _ nothing else- _ ” 

He half-ran out of breath and half-decided that Seonghwa had heard enough of his bitching. 

He took a heavy breath that felt like breathing through cotton. 

Seonghwa’s hands were on his arms so gently, Hongjoong almost didn’t feel it- a question and offer that Hongjoong was free to pull away from if it felt suffocating. 

He sighed, some of that pressure releasing as he stepped forward, allowing Seonghwa to envelope him. 

This, at least, was familiar. 

Even if Hongjoong stumbled around his own ship- Seonghwa, at least, was something Hongjoong could navigate with his eyes closed. 

His head rested in the crook of his neck as Seonghwa rubbed up and down his arms, across his back, up at his neck- 

Hongjoong relaxed against him, almost imagining that he was just leaning against him with his eyes closed, like he usually did. Like any moment he could open his eyes and he’d see Seonghwa smiling at him gently, asking if he felt better after that. 

Seonghwa’s hands were warm on him, and Hongjoong tilted his head back, following muscle memory to press his lips to Seonghwa slowly. 

He controlled the kiss, but Seonghwa followed him without hesitation, pressing closer when Hongjoong’s grip on him tightened, smooth lips running over Hongjoong gently. 

This, at least, was familiar. This was a comfort that took root in Hongjoong’s chest. 

He could guess and worry and fumble his way through everything else, but with Seonghwa he didn’t need to see. 

He pulled away, foreheads resting as he kept his eyes closed, imagining that he was just living in the moment and savoring their moments alone. 

Seonghwa pressed a kiss to his forehead that Hongjoong leaned into gently, breathing in the scent of leather and metal that Seonghwa got from sitting in the pilot’s chair. 

“Give it time,” Seonghwa murmured. “I promise, Hongjoong, just have a little more patience. I swear, it’s going to be okay.” 

Seonghwa trusted Yeosang. Trusted his word and his opinion. Hongjoong did, too, but it was different when you were the one blind. 

Seonghwa, though… Seonghwa, Hongjoong could trust, regardless of his sight. 

He nodded slowly, feeling a little more grounded. They would make it through this. 

Hongjoong just needed to stop getting lost in his own darkness. He just needed to stop panicking and start operating more confidently. 

He could that. 

Hongjoong kissed Seonghwa’s jaw before pulling away slowly. “Let’s go take a look at those consoles,” he said roughly. 

Seonghwa hummed in agreement. 

Hongjoong didn’t hesitate to grab Seonghwa’s arm, letting him make it a little easier to just follow him. 

Hongjoong sat in the pilot chair as Seonghwa checked the systems.

“I’ve got the medicine!” 

Hongjoong glanced up some time later at the yell. There was the sound of something hitting metal, Seonghwa barking out a surprised “Ow!” 

He heard footsteps pound into the control room, Yeosang’s voice ringing out clearly. “I’ve got them!” he announced. “I haggled down the price for the better regenerative pills- it’s one from Tylieron, so you  _ know  _ it’s good.” 

Hongjoong did not know that. But he could trust Yeosang’s word. 

“Use this instead of the one I gave you,” Yeosang said, taking Hongjoong’s hand and pressing down a little bottle no bigger than the center of his palm. “If your sight isn’t back within 72 hours, I’ll go back and break that merchant’s trachea myself.” 

Hongjoong’s lips lifted, despite the darkness, feeling something lift in his chest. 

Seonghwa’s hand curled around his ankle gently. 

“Thank, Yeosang,” he said genuinely. “How did Wooyoung behave?” 

“Uh…” 

Hongjoong frowned. And then glared. “ _ What _ ?”

“Okay, it wasn’t my fault- I was getting the medicine. It just happened to be next to a line booster stall and he was just looking, but then I turned and suddenly he had six.” 

“Six line boosters?” Seonghwa demanded. “What the hell does he need so many for?” 

Yeosang shifted audibly. “Uh… I don’t know, he mentioned some project to connect them all. Something about  _ Illusion  _ being able to break 9th level warp with them.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t help the hand that smacked up at his forehead, a groan in his throat. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Yeosang fought. “I was looking at medicine!” 

It was only fair. Wooyoung was constantly surrounded by new and cool things. It wasn’t Yeosang’s fault he got so little exposure to his passion. 

But six fucking line boosters? 

“What did it cost him?” Seonghwa sighed. 

“Um.” 

“ _ Yeosang _ .” 

“It’s not like we use two beds anyway!” Yeosang fought. “Wooyoung’s was basically just there for show- it won’t even be missed!” 

Hongjoong resisted the urge to slam his head into the console. 

Whatever. It was Yeosang who was going to have a permanent roommate now. 

However, it was everyone else who would have to deal with the aftermath of that… 

~~~~~~~~

Yeosang woke up to Wooyoung laying on his chest. 

Not sleeping on his chest. Laying on it. 

Which, to be honest, both were equally confusing because Yeosang was laying in the Medical Bay with his head pounding and his throat swollen almost to the point of not being able to speak. 

At least, he was five hours ago when he administered an antiviral drug to himself and laid down at Hongjoong’s finally exploding insistence. 

“You’ve got a very small window where no one is doing anything dangerous,” Hongjoong said, shoving him down onto the bed. “ _ Sleep _ .” 

And Yeosang had promptly passed out, dragged under by the drugs and effects of whatever virus he had picked up from whatever planet they had been running around on. 

Nearly five hours later, he woke up only feeling vaguely like death, but finding a little trouble breathing- which was promptly explained by his eyes opening and finding Wooyoung with his head laid on Yeosang’s chest. 

Yeosang frowned, sucking in a deep breath to work around the weight against him. “What are you doing?” he rasped, throat feeling like sandpaper. 

Wooyoung’s head snapped up, and he stared at Yeosang in shock for a moment before relaxing slightly, dropping his eyes to scan Yeosang’s body before landing back up at his face. He was oddly serious as he played with the edges of his shirt. 

“You breathe really quietly,” Wooyoung almost whispered, as if not wanting to actually say it. “I was just making sure.” 

Yeosang blinked, a new pressure in his chest that was unrelated to the illness. “I- You could just check the screen.” He glanced at the bedside table where his screen was still sitting, showing his blood pressure, heart rate, breathing rate, cell speed- all the essentials. 

Wooyoung huffed. “I don’t know how to read that thing.” He sat up, the weight leaving Yeosang completely. “I was just making sure.” 

Yeosang felt the urge to chuckle. “It was just a foreign cold,” Yeosang reminded him. “It wasn’t anything remotely deadly.” 

Wooyoung just shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. 

Yeosang had been trained for years to lead with his mind. With logic. 

When seconds were the only difference between someone living and dying, he couldn’t afford to lose his head to emotion or mania. He was a walking textbook of facts and rules about the human (and other species’) body. When he needed to break a limb to reset it, he didn’t have the option to feel bad or think about what sort of pain he was inflicting. 

Yeosang weighed everything against logic, and logic won every time. 

(Most of the time. A very few instances notwithstanding.) 

Wooyoung had lived his entire life with passion and heart being his only support. 

When Wooyoung saw an engine or an opportunity to tinker, it didn’t matter how little time he had or how unbelievable or impossible it would be to do. He cared nothing for wasting time or failing or misusing resources. Wooyoung saw something he wanted to do and he went for it, regardless of logic because his heart told him he  _ wanted  _ to do that. He was  _ living  _ to do that. 

Yeosang saw a person laying in a bed and listed all the reasons they might live and all the reasons they might die, and, hopefully, if he was doing his job correctly, there would be more reasons to live. 

Wooyoung saw a friend laying on a bed- not their usual selves- and treated every moment they were down as a potential to lose them. 

Yeosang operated in the long term, unable to let his heart be seen. 

Wooyoung lived only for the short term, heart bursting out onto his sleeve. 

It didn’t matter all the facts and science behind why Yeosang wouldn’t die- or come anywhere close to death. Wooyoung didn’t care about facts. 

He cared that Yeosang was currently, at this moment, not himself, and he hated that. 

It didn’t matter if he knew Yeosang  _ should  _ be breathing, he wanted to know that he was  _ right now _ . 

“I’m fine,” Yeosang said, voice perhaps softer than he might usually let it become. 

Wooyoung glanced up, not bothering to hide the concern in his eyes. “How’re you feeling? Faint? Sick?” 

Not exactly the questions he was taught to ask in medical school, but the sentiment was there. 

“A little sore,” Yeosang said truthfully. “Thirsty. But a hell of a lot better than I was.” 

Wooyoung nodded slowly, lips rolling as he almost seemed to be reassuring himself. 

Yeosang sat up slowly, his chest aching a little from all the coughing he did, and Wooyoung made a half-cut off noise of protest, hands coming up. “Should you be sitting up?” he demanded, almost frantic. 

Yeosang did not usually get sick. He was much too careful (and vaccinated) for that. This had just been some later strand of viral infection that Yeosang hadn’t quite gotten around to updating his pharmacy on. 

“I think  _ I’m  _ the doctor here,” he said, lips twitching as Wooyoung swallowed. “I’m fine, Wooyoung. The new vaccine is being ordered and the antiviral I administered worked well. I don’t even have a fever anymore.” 

Wooyoung placed a hand against Yeosang’s forehead anyway, frowning as he placed his other to his own forehead. 

Yeosang snorted, finding the action stupidly endearing. “I think my machines are a little more accurate than your hands.” He took Wooyoung’s from his forehead, holding it loosely in his lap. He used his other to grab the screen beside his bed. “Look,” he said, showing it to Wooyoung. He pointed to the little red and green bar in the corner. “See? It’s normal, within the green.” 

Wooyoung took it, squinting at it angrily. “What if your machines break?” he demanded. “What if it’s reading it wrong?” 

Yeosang quirked his lips. “I didn’t think you would be one to question the reliability of machines, Wooyoung.” 

“I’m  _ not _ , I’m just-” 

Yeosang leaned forward, pressing a quick peck to his lips, pulling back with a gentle smile as Wooyoung fell stock-still, expression open and shocked. 

Yeosang flicked his forehead gently. “My machines are working fine and so am I.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, Wooyoung scooting down and letting him sit up completely, rolling his shoulder out after so long of laying down. 

“Well, can you blame me for freaking out?” Wooyoung demanded, arms crossing tightly. “You almost  _ passed out  _ in the control room.”

“I got light headed,” Yeosang said firmly. “That’s a far cry from almost passing out.” 

“You were so pale!” 

“Am I pale now?” Yeosang questioned expectantly. “Are you questioning my medical abilities for my  _ own body _ , Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “I was just worried,” he muttered. 

Yeosang spent so much of his life chasing after and fussing over Wooyoung… it was amusing (and maybe a little warmth-enducing) to watch the favor be returned, however clumsily. 

Yeosang brushed their shoulders together, Wooyoung glancing up, and when his face was closer, Yeosang leaned in, kissing him a little longer. 

Wooyoung’s hands curled into loose fists, eyes falling shut slowly, making Yeosang’s chest clench a little. 

It scared him, sometimes, how utterly invested in Wooyoung he had become, given how much of their time together he had spent simply existing beside him. 

Yeosang found he quite liked existing with him. 

Wooyoung’s skin was warm from sleeping, lips dry but soft as he pressed a little closer to Yeosang, a hand finding Yeosang’s and lacing their fingers together tightly, as if afraid he would let go. 

Yeosang squeezed his hand back. 

Wooyoung pulled away, cheeks a little flushed and hands still gripping Yeosang’s tightly. “Don’t get sick,” he said firmly. “None of us know enough about your organizational system to be able to help you.” 

Yeosang snorted, pressing their foreheads together. “What part of organizing by letter, quadrant, and brand- in that order- is hard to understand?” 

Yeosang truly didn’t understand, but Wooyoung just rolled his eyes, standing. “Your mind is an enigma that would kill any normal human being,” he assured him. “Are you hungry? I’m gonna grab you something to drink.” 

Yeosang wasn’t that effective at hiding his little smile, but he nodded. “Yeah, I could eat.” 

Wooyoung’s expression was lightly exasperated as he nodded, walking away, but letting his hands trail against Yeosang’s as they parted. 

It made him feel warm. 

Yeosang was still bad at showing all the little affections that he felt. He could say them, sometimes, in the dead of night, in the darkness of their rooms. He might show something a little softer when they alone, and could maybe admit to actually  _ liking  _ Wooyoung, on occasion. 

But he was not like Wooyoung, who could talk about all the things inside his heart, with his whole chest, for hours. 

Wooyoung never seemed to mind. 

It only made his eyes light up that much brighter when Yeosang did feel confident enough to let something slip out. 

~~~~~~~~

“Anything?” Yeosang questioned, a light shining directly into Hongjoong’s eyes. 

Seonghwa held his breath as Hongjoong blinked a few times, eyes twitching. 

“I…” 

Yeosang waved a hand behind the flashlight, brows drawn in concentration. 

“I see…” His eyes twitched again. “It’s like… something moving in the dark? Like, I can’t see it, but I can… I can tell  _ something  _ is moving.” 

“I want you to describe the speed that the things are moving,” Yeosang said, alternating between waving his hand quickly and slowly. 

Hongjoong got them all correct. 

Seonghwa felt something unlock in his chest. Hongjoong released a shaking breath as Yeosang nodded. “You’re healing.” 

It was barely a day since Yeosang had given them the new pills, and while Hongjoong had described it as almost burning a little, Yeosang assured him that was normal. 

“It’s a  _ very  _ good pill,” Yeosang assured them, smiling gently. 

Seonghwa’s smile faded slightly as he stared at Yeosang a little longer. His smile was soft, but one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. One that was strained just the tiniest bit around the edges. 

Seonghwa frowned, but smiled when Yeosang turned to ask if he had noticed any differences with Hongjoong since they began use of it. 

Seonghwa answered all the questions, but his mind wouldn’t quite let him move on. 

While Hongjoong went through another quick check up, Seonghwa excused himself to check on the crew. 

Wooyoung was easy to find, hidden away in one hallway and playing with a bunch of electrical wires, all twisting around his fingers like little vines. 

He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of someone approaching. “Oh, hey, hyung,” He greeted, turning back and carefully twisting two pieces of wire together. “What’s up?” He moved one wire to his mouth to hold, frowning as he wrapped tape around the two he had mended. 

Seonghwa was silent for a moment, arms coming to rest across his chest. “What, exactly, did Yeosang trade to get those pills?” 

There was a sudden spark, Wooyoung cursing loudly as he dropped the wires, standing and pacing a circle as he clutched at his hand that was a little red. 

“-Fregan whorehouse  _ motherfucker- _ ” 

“Are you finished?” Seonghwa questioned quietly. 

Wooyoung glared at him, still rubbing the little burned area, slowing until he was frozen in the spot, chewing his lip. He sighed, but didn’t look any less miserable. “Look, Yeosang told me not to tell anyone-” 

“I’m not ‘anyone’,” Seonghwa said firmly, something uneasy in his stomach. “I’m your hyung and second in command, which means I outrank the person who told you not to tell anyone.” 

Wooyoung winced slightly. “Yeah, but, like… Yeosang and I are... “ He gestured vaguely. “He could do things a lot worse to me than you could…” 

Seonghwa wasn’t sure if he was refering to being sex deprived or drugged in his sleep. 

Seonghwa’s brows pull down, not a word falling from his lips. 

Wooyoung sighed, expression dropping as he rubbed at his face. “Why do you hate me?” he muttered, lowering his hands with a heavy expression. 

Seonghwa frowned. “Did he trade more medicines from his stash?” Seonghwa questioned. “Equipment?” 

Wooyoung shook his head heavily. “Fuck no,” he assured him. “Yeosang wouldn’t trade things we might potentially need.”

“Then what?” Seonghwa demanded. “No one’s reported anything missing, so it can’t have been anything more than was authorized to be traded.” 

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened and loosened before he blew out a long breath, head dropping. “Fine,” he sighed, leaning against the wall of the hallway. He looked at Seonghwa darkly. “He traded everything.” 

“What do you mean  _ ‘everything’ _ ?” 

“Everything in his collections,” Wooyoung reiterated, voice hard. 

His collections… 

When Yeosang joined, Wooyoung had gone out at their next stop and bought him an antique snowglobe with a tiny, ancient spaceship inside that someone was selling. For no other reason than he felt like it, and wanted Yeosang to have something to commemorate joining their crew. 

Yeosang was confused by the gift at first, but that didn’t stop him from carefully placing it safely in his office on his desk, secured by adhesive in case Seonghwa did any emergency barrel rolls. 

It never explicitly became a thing, but Wooyoung soon discovered that Yeosang was fascinated with old antiques. At the next stop, it was an old book. After that, a dusty hourglass. Once, he had even traded a week’s wages just for an ancient stethoscope that Yeosang stared at like it was made of gold (and it was worth as much). 

He didn’t have many of them, but when Wooyoung could afford them, he always got one when he found it. Yeosang kept them all carefully stored and cared for, in pristine condition.

Those things meant the world to Yeosang. He hadn’t brought a single thing when he joined  _ Illusion _ , but Wooyoung had filled his room with those little gifts. 

They meant the world to him. 

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened. “The asshat at the apothocary wasn’t going down a fucking cent on the price. He said what we offered wasn’t enough, so Yeosang offered all the things he had in his collection.” 

Seonghwa stared. It wasn’t quite horror, but… Yeosang had the least amount of stuff out of all of them. He didn’t form attachments to objects, but he treasured those antiques. 

Wooyoung had given them to him. 

Wooyoung looked bitter. “None of the stuff was really all  _ that  _ valuable, aside from a couple of them, so he… he had to give it all to meet the price.” 

“We didn’t  _ need  _ that medicine,” Seonghwa fought, voice hard. “Not badly enough for him to trade away everything you gave him-” Seonghwa’s stomach dropped. “Did you trade your-” 

“Not my snowglobe,” Wooyoung assured him, looking only a little pleased under his sober expression. “No, he kept that and that one glass orb he got that looks like Earth. Everything else, though…” 

Wooyoung didn’t look angry at Yeosang (Seonghwa wasn’t sure he knew  _ how  _ to be angry at Yeosang himself), but he looked pissed he had been put in such a position. That he had felt the need to trade those things.

“Why?” Seonghwa demanded, feeling guilt and apologies bursting under his skin. “We didn’t need it that badly. Hongjoong would have healed-” 

“Yeosang can’t stand seeing him like that,” Wooyoung said, shrugging helplessly. “It’s not like he thinks Hongjoong is being weak or something, but he just… he knows how much Hongjoong is struggling to cope. He wanted to fix it.” 

Wooyoung could claim the title all he wanted, but everyone knew that it was Yeosang who was obsessed with fixing things. 

Fixing people. 

It didn’t matter how good he was at hiding it, any sort of injury was a wound to his chest that he desperately tried to hide for the sake of the person suffering. 

It didn’t matter if it was a burn or a broken limb or temporary blindness.

It killed Yeosang when he couldn’t just snap his fingers and fix it. 

“Listen,” Wooyoung said heavily. “If Hongjoong can risk his life and be just a general headass about things for the sake of the crew, then Yeosang can make the decision to sell the things that belong to him to try and repay that.” 

Seonghwa’s lips pressed together. “You’re quoting Yeosang, aren’t you?” 

Wooyoung nodded quickly. “Yeah. I wanted to sneak back in there and get every fucking piece of his shit back, but he threatened me to keep my mouth shut about it.” 

Wooyoung winced. 

Yeosang  _ never  _ made an empty threat. 

“Don’t tell him you know,” Wooyoung requested desperately. “Because he’ll know it was me that told you. Just… let him do this for Hongjoong, alright?” 

Seonghwa hummed, feeling an urge to berate the medic  _ and  _ hug him. 

As much as he truly didn’t think Yeosang should have traded his things- traded  _ those  _ things- part of him could only be unquantifiably grateful that Hongjoong would have that part of him back sooner. 

Thanks to Yeosang. 

“My lips are sealed,” Seonghwa said quietly, turning away. “I won’t say a word about it.” 

He returned back just as Yeosang was clearing Hongjoong to leave. “You know,  _ captain _ ,” Yeosang said petulantly. “It wouldn’t kill you to take twenty four hours to rest in the middle of all this.” 

Hongjoong huffed in disbelief. “I can barely take a nap without you people tearing my ship apart. What havoc would you reach within a full day?”

Seonghwa stood beside him, but Hongjoong didn’t hold onto him. “Well, then, how about this,” Yeosang said, scribbling on the screen. “By doctor’s orders, you’re going to go take a nap that lasts at least three hours. Your body is regenerating cells at nearly 50 times its usual rate. It needs rest, or you’re going to crash.” 

“You’re not even a doctor!” 

“No, I’m a medic,” Yeosang agreed, glancing up. “But all that means is that I can legally hurt you more than a doctor could.” 

“You took a code of ethics!” Hongjoong fought. 

“Ethically, I’m supposed to have you in as little pain as possible,” Yeosang stated emotionlessly, looking too pleased. “If you’re taking actions that are putting yourself in more pain, I can take actions outside of that. Like stabbing you with an anesthetic that’ll keep you out for  _ twelve  _ hours, instead of three. Your choice.” 

Hongjoong turned away with a loud huff. “You’re the  _ worst _ .” 

“Aw, you chose the boring option.” 

Hongjoong stormed towards the door, furious at the prospect of a nap, but he moved with a confidence he didn’t have twenty four hours ago. Seonghwa watched him go for a moment before turning back to Yeosang who stared at his screen, looking genuinely put out about not being able to stab anyone with needles. 

Seonghwa’s eyes softened. 

“Yeosang.” 

The medic glanced up, looking genuinely curious about why he was still there. 

Seonghwa’s lips twitched, smile warm. “Thank you.” 

Yeosang frowned gently, searching Seonghwa’s face, and then his eyes hardened slightly as he turned back to his screen. “Wooyoung is a dead man,” he muttered between his teeth. 

Seonghwa blood warmed. “Thank you,” he said again. 

“I didn’t do it for thanks,” Yeosang said firmly, glancing up with defensive eyes. “I did it for Hongjoong and everyone else. Hongjoong needs his sight, and his crew needs him.” 

Even if nothing dangerous had happened. Even if they never hit an issue that required Hongjoong’s ability to see. 

Seonghwa was sure if Hongjoong knew, he’d cry. 

“Then on behalf of Hongjoong and the crew,” Seonghwa said quietly. “Thank you.” 

“Just get out of here before I add you into the list I’m planning for Wooyoung.” 

~~~~~~

“I…” 

Yeosang stared at the still, pale body of San on the cot, his fists clenched and his blood racing, though his expression was startlingly cold and cut off. 

“I can’t do anything more,” Yeosang said, voice strong despite the way his fist shook. “I’ve given him all the boosts I can, but… it all comes down to whether or not his body naturally fights off the infection.” 

Hongjoong’s expression was grave- dark and angry as he stared at San. The only thing that looked to be wrong with him was the small bandage wrapped around his arm where a cut no bigger than a finger was covered. That, and the unnatural ashen tone to his skin and the fact that he hadn’t been conscious since he accidentally cut himself on a piece of scrap on whatever planet they had landed on. 

There was a bacteria on it, but not one Yeosang had the means to kill. He had given San’s immune system every boost he could risk, but at the end of the day… they could only wait. 

Hongjoong’s dark eyes flickered over San, as if looking for something they might have missed. The rest of the crew had similar expressions of gravity, and Yeosang felt like he was going to be ill as half of them stared at San, as if mentally trying to rouse him, and the other half stared at Yeosang, as if waiting for him to reveal a miracle cure. 

Yeosang tossed down his screen when the knot in his chest finally tightened too much. “I’m going to keep looking into it in my office,” he muttered, turning on his heel and walking away quickly. 

He felt their eyes on him as he walked, but he didn’t slow. Even when he heard familiar footsteps following him. 

Yeosang slammed the door to his office shut and locked it, walking to his desk and slumping over it, fingers threaded through his hair painfully as his eyes burned with helplessness and anger. 

There was the sound of the door to his office attempting to be opened. 

A pause. 

“Yeosang?” Wooyoung called quietly. Another clicking sound of the door being tried. 

Yeosang remained silent. He couldn’t face anyone right now. Not even Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung could easily override the lock, but Yeosang sincerely hoped he wouldn’t. 

He didn’t have the energy to fight. 

But there was only a quiet sigh, and then footsteps retreating. 

Yeosang knew that whatever bacteria was raging war on San’s body was one he couldn’t kill. He  _ knew  _ that all he could do was hope that San’s system could fight it off. 

Did that stop him from staring at a screen for hours, blinking through the frustrated, desperate tears that blurred his vision annoyingly? No. It didn’t stop him from brushing them away in frustration, not even bothering to acknowledge them as he searched through every resource he knew, trying to find  _ something  _ the might work- 

He could not let San die. For the sake of the crew and Hongjoong, who stared at him with such dark eyes… Yeosang couldn’t let him die. 

It wasn’t as if no member of the crew had never almost died. 

But this was the first time that Yeosang was sitting by helplessly. 

He was used to fighting for a person’s life. Used to tugging them back from the edge of death and pain with a surge of adrenaline and focus- tools and operations and movement and fighting- 

He was not used to waiting. Just sitting by, without a thing he could do, and just… waiting. 

It was killing him. 

And he was killing San, as he sat by without a fucking thing in the world that he could do for him. Yeosang never made it his business to feel useless, but in this moment- office pitch black save for the blue light of his screen, his eyes burning from tears and tiredness… 

Yeosang was useless. 

He didn’t hear a knock or anything. Just the audible clunk of the wall panel outside his door being opened, and Yeosang sighed, dropping his head back into his hands. 

He didn’t know if he was ready to face anyone yet. 

Wooyoung didn’t give him a choice, though, his door sliding open and Wooyoung standing there, expression heavy. 

He didn’t even attempt to try and smile. Just stared at Yeosang for a moment before stepping inside the office, sliding the door closed behind him. 

Three steps and he was beside Yeosang’s desk. A small clunk and Yeosang glanced up, seeing a ration pack sitting on his desk. 

“It’s been a few hours,” Wooyoung said quietly. “You should eat something.” 

Yeosang sighed, leaning his head back down. “I’m wasting my time in here,” he muttered with surprising willingness. “I knew from the beginning there was nothing else to do.” 

Wooyoung’s hand dropped to his neck, massaging the muscle there gently. Yeosang breathed out quietly as Wooyoung swallowed. “He’ll make it,” Wooyoung said firmly. “San’s got too many pranks left on his list to die.” 

He said it confidently. As if he was the medical genius. Yeosang wished he could believe him. 

Yeosang, however, knew that prank lists were not a viable reason to believe someone wouldn’t die. That could not comfort him. Wooyoung knew that. 

He sat up, staring up at Wooyoung who looked a little helpless, like he didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to do. 

“He’ll make it,” He simply repeated firmly. 

Yeosang sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “His chances are as good as anyone’s,” Yeosang said, more to comfort himself. “I’ve given him regenerative shots and autoimmune boosts strong enough to kill anything that isn’t supposed to be there. Logically, he should pull through within the next couple of days.” 

Logic was having a hard time comforting Yeosang at the moment. 

Wooyoung was silent, bathed in the blue light of his screen. “You’re not useless,” he stated, even more confident than his claim for San. “San wouldn’t have made it at all without you. You’re doing what you can, and it’ll be enough. It always is.” 

Yeosang snorted bitterly. “Medicine isn’t quite like tinkering, Wooyoung. Your best isn’t always enough.  _ Most  _ of the time, it isn’t enough.” 

There was no ‘doing your best’ when someone’s body finally gave out and no amount of adrenaline and injections could help them. 

Maybe that was what drew Yeosang to Wooyoung. That part of the younger that just absolutely refused to die. That part of the other that demanded that his heart restart again and again. 

_ “I had unfinished business,” Wooyoung had told him. “It wasn’t my time yet. I still had a crew that needed me to keep their ship together.”  _

If Wooyoung could do it… maybe San could as well. No one on this ship had any reason to let themselves die. They all had found too much to live for. Too much to fight for. 

Yeosang just begged that San remembered all those reasons. They were currently gathered around his bedside, ready to be acknowledged the moment he opened his eyes. 

“That’s why you give more than your best,” Wooyoung said easily, leaning against Yeosang desk, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “I’m pretty sure your best peaks at tearing people open to stitch them back together. You go beyond that on a daily basis. If you think  _ we’re  _ too stubborn to die,  _ you’re  _ too stubborn to let us. Can’t let that get on your record.” 

Yeosang’s lips twitched against his better judgement. It didn’t reach his eyes, but the pressure in his chest lessened. Wooyoung rubbed circles into his arm absently, still just watching Yeosang. 

“And I know that Hongjoong looked pissed,” Wooyoung muttered. “But it wasn’t at you, Yeosang. He would never blame you for something like this. It’s not your fault. He’s just scared.” 

Yeosang knew this. But once more, all the fun chemicals in his brain liked to mess with knowing and believing. He knew Hongjoong didn’t blame him. Believing was another story. 

But he nodded anyway. “I know he is.” 

“Yeosang.” The stern tone made Yeosang look at him, stark features thrown into sharp shadows by the light of the screen. He glared at Yeosang. “No part of this is your fault. And if Hongjoong  _ did  _ somehow blame you, I’d break his legs.” 

Yeosang shook his head, huffing a mirthless laugh that wasn’t quite so bitter. “My hero,” he muttered. 

“I’m serious, Yeosang-” 

“I know you are,” he said, some sense knocking back into his head as he shifted his arm, taking Wooyoung’s hand that had been stroking it. “And I appreciate you coming in here.” 

Wooyoung’s eyes softened into that mature sobriety that Yeosang always found his stomach twisting at. 

“I’ll just feel better once I can see that San is out of the woods,” Yeosang informed him. 

Wooyoung nodded in understanding, squeezing his hand. Yeosang glanced passed him at the shut door. 

“Are the others out there now?” 

“Jongho and Yunho are,” Wooyoung said quietly. “The others popped in when they passed by. Hongjoong is sticking to the control room, for now. I think he and Seonghwa went to their quarters, finally, though. Mingi is watching the helm.” 

Yeosang hummed, squeezing Wooyoung’s hand tightly. “I’ll feel better once San is up and about,” he stated again. 

Wooyoung hummed in agreement. “He’ll be fine,” he said once more. “You’ll see.” 

Yeosang didn’t go back to searching his resources. Wooyoung didn’t leave. Both of them simply sitting, existing, with their fingers tangled as Yeosang pulled up San’s vitals on his screen, watching them rise and fall. 

“His fever went down,” Wooyoung said, half-question and half-statement. 

Yeosang lips twitched. “You remembered.” Yeosang expected his little lesson on reading screens to go right over his head, but Wooyoung retained information like a sponge. “How’s his breathing?” 

Wooyoung squinted at the screen for a full minute. “A little irregular?” he decided. “Labored.” 

Yeosang hummed in agreement. “He’s better than he was, though. Look, the oxygen exchange is doubled now. Still too low, but better. And you can see where it affected the brain pattern-” 

Going through the vitals helped Yeosang calm himself. He could see, with his eyes, the improvements San had made in just a few hours. There was still time for him to take a dive, but Yeosang was hopeful as Wooyoung listened, following along with his eyes as Yeosang ran through brain waves and red blood counts. 

San regained consciousness two days later, and the entire crew released a collective breath as he smiled tiredly at Hongjoong berating him for being so stupid as to almost die because of a little cut. 

Wooyoung caught Yeosang’s eyes, gesturing to San as if asking “See? He’s fine.” 

Hongjoong was suddenly in front of Yeosang- eyes no longer hard and dark, but a little misty. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. He squeezed Yeosang’s shoulder. “This crew would be screwed without you.” 

Yeosang shrugged, nodding, but his chest expanded as San had enough energy to tell Mingi he looked like shit. 

~~~~~~~~

“How many fingers?” 

“Thr- No. Uh… two.” 

“How many fingers?”

“Five.”

“How many?” 

“Fou- No, three.” 

Yeosang hummed. “All correct,” he said, sounding pleased. 

Hongjoong the urge to vomit with relief. 

“What sort of features can you make out on my face?” Yeosang’s voice questioned, the little brighter-darkness that Hongjoong knew to be Yeosang’s flashlight shining in his eyes. 

It was the strangest thing Hongjoong had ever experienced. 

It had started off like seeing someone moving in pitch blackness. As if he could see darkness moving  _ inside  _ of darkness. He could see the movement and if he concentrated very hard, he could make out shapes, as if his eyes were adjusting to a dark room, giving him that much more freedom. 

Now, though, it was like looking through darkly frosted glass. He could see vague colors and shapes, but it all just seemed like he was crossing his eyes while he looked at them. It was dizzying and now, more than before, he felt the urge to close his eyes as his head swam with the wrong images. 

“Uh… you’re frowning.” 

“He’s always frowning, that’s not a fair answer,” Seonghwa’s voice answered, a smile audible. 

Hongjoong couldn’t wait to see properly again. And while part of it was for the fact he was tired of stumbling around… he wanted to be able to stop worrying Seonghwa. 

Hongjoong knew Seonghwa gladly aided him, and he was more concerned for Hongjoong than his own sanity or comfort. And Hongjoong knew that he would have long since gone insane if not for Seonghwa. 

So he couldn’t wait until he could remove this burden from both of them. 

He was halfway there, though. He could see enough (most of the time) to avoid running into things, even if his depth perception was shot to hell. It was more the urge to shut his eyes that made him need to grab onto Seonghwa, telling him to guide him before he threw up. 

“The nausea is normal,” Yeosang noted. “But let me know if you throw up from something other than your head spinning. If you start feeling faint or if you vision gets spotty, let me know, understand?” 

Hongjoong saluted, the room spinning a little. “Whatever medicine you got, it was worth it. I can’t believe how quickly that stuff worked.” 

“According to Wooyoung, it was worth the price,” Seonghwa said. 

Hongjoong saw the vague movement of Yeosang turning to him, and even Hongjoong could tell it was a glare he was directing at the other. “Since when does Wooyoung know about the fairness of apothecary prices?” Hongjoong chuckled. 

“He hangs out too much with Yeosang,” Seonghwa said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. He stood, the vague shape of him approaching Hongjoong. “Ready?” 

Hongjoong hopped down from the table, misjudged the distance to the ground, and felt his knees buckle beneath him. 

Seonghwa stopped him with a single hand catching his arms, and Hongjoong actually found himself wanting to laugh at himself. “Not quite up to jumping, I guess.” 

“Obviously,” Seonghwa said in a tone that said he was not impressive with the action. 

Hongjoong smiled quietly, turning to the Yeosang-blob. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

Yeosang waved a hand (Hongjoong assumed that’s what that was). “Just get your sight back and get things back to normal. I can’t stand seeing you and Seonghwa being this open. It’s encouraging Wooyoung.” 

Hongjoong snorted. Seonghwa and he still kept a very close rein on themselves, but it was the nature of the situation for more things to slip through. 

“Don’t worry,” Seonghwa assured him. “Once he can see completely, he’ll go back to pretending he hates me on duty.” 

“Get the hell out of my Medical Bay.” 

“It’s still technically my Medical Bay,” Hongjoong muttered as Seonghwa lead him away. “I bought it.” 

“Then you can heal your own self next time,” Yeosang called. “Or, better yet, you can buy the stuff to fill it.” 

Hongjoong just shook his head negatively. 

Seonghwa squeezed his arm. “Play nice, or he’ll make your next round of shots  _ hell _ .” 

Hongjoong huffed. “I’m not scared of him.” A complete lie, but it felt nice to say it like it was true. 

They made it to the control room, San not present to be his eyes at the moment, but Hongjoong would call him back in soon. 

“He’s actually really glad you’re progressing, you know.” 

Hongjoong frowned, leaning against the console. “Who?”

“Yeosang,” Seonghwa told him, sitting in his seat. “He’s relieved you’re progressing.” 

Hongjoong snorted. “Of course I know,” He chuckled. “Yeosang still likes to think it’s a secret that he’d die for any person on this ship. He acts tough, but when I finally get full sight back, he’ll probably cry.” 

Part of Hongjoong had been deeply startled, the further he understood just how much Yeosang hid. And just how fragile what he hid was. 

Hongjoong had been startled and shocked by how much Yeosang  _ cared _ . 

Not that he thought him indifferent, but Yeosang cared so much, so deeply that Hongoong began to worry for  _ him  _ more than the person who had gotten hurt. Hongjoong could see how each injury killed him. 

Especially those that he couldn’t immediately fix. Which included Hongjoong’s eyes. 

So, this progress was surely the highlight of his week, aside from whatever Wooyoung had been doing as a result of it. 

“He traded his collection for that medicine,” Seonghwa said quietly. 

Hongjoong turned to him quickly, needing to grab the console to steady himself as his brain made it seem like he was still spinning. “He what?” 

“The apothecary was being an asshole,” Seonghwa said quietly. “The price was too high so Yeosang traded everything but his snowglobe and Earth orb.” 

Hongjoong felt guilt, and then anger, settle heavy in his stomach, but more than anything he wanted to go and headlock Yeosang until he stopped caring so much. 

Hongjoong  _ would  _ get better, but Yeosang always had to make them healthy  _ now _ . He needed them back to normal  _ now _ . 

Hongjoong was going to kill that Medic.

Right after he kissed him (on the cheek because he didn’t feel like inciting three different wraths onto himself). 

Yeosang loved that fucking collection. And aside from his medical things and clothing, it was all he had. All Wooyoung had given him. 

Fuck no- he not losing that just because his soft heart needed to make things better  _ now _ . 

Hongjoong sighed, turning back to the station more carefully. “Fine, then,” he said firmly. “Two can play at that game.” 

“Hongjoong, what are you planning-” 

Hongjoong pressed the intercom. “Wooyoung.” 

“Yep, Cap?” came the static reply. 

“Any of those parts that you traded for that you’re not using immediately, gather them up. We’re trading them for something else.” 

~~~~~~~~

“Do you think the others actually like having me as a captain?” 

Seonghwa lifted his head to see where Hongjoong laid against him, staring at the opposite wall with a genuinely concerned expression. 

“Why wouldn’t they?” Seonghwa questioned lightly. 

“Well, do they only follow me as a captain because I own the ship?”

“You’re not the captain because you own the ship,” Seonghwa said quietly. “You’re captain because you lead them. You gathered them and brought them together, and now you lead them. And you lead them  _ well _ .” 

Hongjoong shifted until he was on his elbows, staring down on Seonghwa. “But I never asked, did I? Whether or not they even wanted me to be captain?” 

“I guarantee you, no one wants anyone else as captain,” Seonghwa assured him, chuckling gently as he brushed hair from Hongjoong’s eyes. “And even if they did, they would say something. Not a single person here would follow a man they didn’t trust with their lives.” 

“Do you trust me as a captain?” Hongjoong demanded. “And I mean completely separate from everything else.” 

“Hongjoong, I trusted you back when the only thing I knew about you was your name,” Seonghwa laughed quietly. “I followed you before I even knew you an hour. And even after I came to know you, I still followed you. And even after you became more to me, I  _ still  _ followed you.” 

Hongjoong still looked slightly skeptical. 

“Hongjoong, I follow you as a captain before I ever follow you as a lover. That’s why we keep ourselves separate, remember?” Seonghwa murmured. “Regardless of what I feel for you, if there’s something you’re doing wrong in that control room, I’m telling you. Have I ever just stood by while you did something stupid?” 

“No…” 

“Has any member of this crew?” 

Hongjoong swallowed. “I guess not.” He sighed, lowering his head. “You’re right. I’m being stupid about it-” 

“I never said that,” Seonghwa said quickly, picking his head back up and locking eyes with him. “There’s nothing wrong with questioning yourself, Hongjoong. I do it everyday, too.” He smiled. “Do you think I’m any less uptight knowing I could send us careening into a planet with one wrong calculation?” 

Seonghwa’s work was a lot more reactionary than thoughtful, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to hesitate before enacting a move, for fear of it going wrong. Of the thrusters giving out. Of a miscalculation. Of a single mistake that could wind up with  _ Illusion  _ and her crew crushed like a soda can. 

Such were the risks of space. And such were the burdens of living in it. 

Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow. “Do you trust me as a pilot?” 

Hongjoong snorted gently, eyes nostalgic. “That’s why I picked you.” 

“Why?”

“Because I saw you fly and knew I needed you on my crew,” Hongjoong said, a story the both of them knew inside and out. 

“And I’ve seen you captain,” Seonghwa reminded him. “Everyone has. And we all know that we need you on this crew.” 

Hongjoong managed a weak smile, Seonghwa brushing a hand over his cheek softly. 

“You lead as best you can, and it’s always enough,” Seonghwa comforted. “And the times when it isn’t… well, that’s what the rest of the crew is for.” 

Hongjoong chewed his lip, eyes scanning Seonghwa’s face, as if searching for a lie, but he swallowed, letting go of his lip. 

“I really fucking love you.” 

Seonghwa laughed, letting Hongjoong push him back onto the pillow as he climbed atop him. “You’re so romantic.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who was talking about following me before knowing me,” Hongjoong whispered against his lips, smiling gently. 

It was a languid kiss, a back and forth between the two of them like a conversation. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa had long since learned to communicate with words, actions, glances, touches- Why not with kisses? 

Hongjoong’s brain had a lot easier time believing Seonghwa like this- when most of Hongjoong’s higher functioning brain had checked out. 

Seonghwa never blamed Hongjoong for his insecurities. They were natural and numerous when your actions habitually held the lives of others. 

Seonghwa didn’t mind reassuring him. 

It was a small pile of coins being tossed onto the debt Seonghwa owed Hongjoong for waiting at 0600 for him. 

~~~~~~~~~

“ _ Hongjoong _ !” 

Yeosang’s eyes were blazing as three boxes were placed on the floor in his room. Hongjoong stood from setting down his, brushing his hands off. 

“Should be everything. Go through it and let me know if he tried to skip-” 

Yeosang’s eyes turned to Wooyoung and Seonghwa with their own boxes. “What part of keeping it a secret was so hard for the two of you?” he hissed. 

“Seonghwa made me tell!”

“I decided Hongjoong had a right to know,” Seonghwa said unapologetically. “And besides, it isn’t like we stole it back or anything. Wooyoung had some stuff he was saving for a project. We used that.” 

Yeosang glared at Wooyoung who simply smiled back gently, holding out an antique compass to Yeosang like a peace offering. 

Yeosang was going to strangle him with a fucking IV tube. 

“Ooh, I think I know where that look leads,” Hongjoong muttered, hands slightly in front of him to ensure he didn’t full on run into something. “Come on, Seonghwa, I don’t care if I can’t see, I don’t want front row seats to that.” 

Seonghwa kept a hand hovering near Hongjoong, for emergencies, and glanced back to give a small smile to Yeosang before disappearing through the door. 

Only the two of them were left in Yeosang’s room. Well,  _ their  _ room- evident by the half of the bed that was neatly made and the half that was wrinkled and folded. 

Evident by the extra clothes scattered around, and the mechanical tech stuff that had found its way in between Yeosang’s med tech here and there. 

Yeosang pressed his lips together, not accepting the compass. 

“Are you that angry with me?” Wooyoung asked carefully, trying to figure out where he stood. His expression dropped, looking ready to explain. 

Yeosang scanned his innocent face, the compass in his hand (God, Yeosang had loved that compass, watching it go haywire in space). 

He looked down at the boxes, seeing all his stuff arranged neatly. 

Even his ancient medical books were still preserved in their plastic sleeves Yeosang had never taken them out of. 

And even though Yeosang wanted to snap about how it was his own decision and Wooyoung had no right to try and go behind his back… 

It had killed Yeosang to give this stuff away. Stuff Wooyoung had given him.  _ Memories  _ Wooyoung had given him. While Wooyoung was right beside him. 

Yeosang had asked if he could, and Wooyoung said the things belonged to him, to do whatever he wanted with them. 

But Yeosang hated to think what that stupid, barbarian apothecary would do to the precious books and invaluable items Wooyoung had gotten specially for Yeosang. 

So he stared at the boxes that Wooyoung had traded his own special items for, and felt his throat closing up. His fist clenched tighter. 

“Yeosang, come on,” he said pleadingly when there was no answer to his query. “These were your special things. These were your treasures- it’s not like I’d had those power outlets for years or anything. I can get new ones, I just wanted to get your stuff ba-” 

Yeosang was suddenly backing Wooyoung against the wall, the other looking startled at the sudden onslaught, but his back hit the metal wall and Yeosang was kissing him like it was the last time they could. 

Wooyoung made a shocked noise that was swallowed by Yeosang, his hands wrapping around Yeosang’s waist after only a moment, relaxing into the kiss in relief. 

If Yeosang was kissing him, he knew it meant forgiveness. 

And Yeosang was feeling a lot of things right now. 

Hongjoong was nearly completely healed. Wooyoung’s bandages were growing thinner by the day. The cherished items that Yeosang had come to terms with never seeing again were right in front of him. Wooyoung traded his things to get Yeosang’s back. Wooyoung just wanted to give them back. 

Those were Yeosang’s. From Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung pulled him closer, and Yeosang pressed further, licking into his mouth slowly, making Wooyoung’s grip on him shake a little. 

Yeosang pulled back for only a moment. “You’re an asshole and I fucking love you,” he breathed in a rush before kissing Wooyoung once more, Wooyoung’s fingers digging into his sides tightly. 

Wooyoung forced them apart, lips still brushing. “Yeah, well, you’re a stubborn bastard, and I fucking love you, too.” 

Yeosang’s fingers threaded through his hair, Wooyoung tilting his head to kiss deeper, pulling Yeosang closer and closer even though there was nowhere for him to go- 

Wooyoung suddenly started pushing, moving Yeosang backwards- the other following the movements without even thinking about it- until they reached the mattress, and both of them went tumbling, smiles flitting brightly as Wooyoung laughed as they fell back onto Yeosang’s bed. 

Well. Their bed. 

~~~~~~~~

“Do you ever regret coming?”

“Why would I?”

“Well, I mean, I sort of kidnapped you from your job in the middle of the night.” 

“I chose to go.” 

“You were basically coerced.” 

“Okay, I was coerced into leaving a life that held nothing for me.” 

“But you said that you were content there.” 

“I was content there. But I’m happy here.” 

“... Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“And you’re sure-” 

“ _ Wooyoung.  _ I could never regret you.” 

~~~~~~~

Hongjoong woke up as he usually did: all at once. 

His brain passed the border from sleeping to waking and he lay there silently for a moment, listening. 

Even when he had his sight, he would do this. Listen to the run of the engine and the groaning of the ship. The breathing of Seonghwa next to him and the rustle of fabric against fabric as he shifted. 

“You awake?” Seonghwa’s voice came quietly, recognizing the change in breathing and posture. 

Hongjoong hummed, turning towards him, rolling onto his side. 

Seonghwa’s hand came and rested against his cheek gently, as it always did. And then it moved to drag through Hongjoong’s hair that was always a mess after waking, as it always did. 

Hongjoong hummed in contentment, almost feeling normal and he carefully allowed his eyes to open. 

The lighting in the room was dim, but he could see Seonghwa smiling gently, fondly, eyes shifting from Hongjoong’s lips to his hair, watching his hand drag through- 

Hongjoong stiffened, eyes widening. 

Seonghwa paused immediately, eyes falling back down to Hongjoong quickly. “What?” he questioned. “What’s wrong?”

Hongjoong felt like the air was sucked from his lungs. 

“I can see you.” 

Seonghwa’s expression dropped in shock, and then something almost like panic settled in his eyes. “You can see?” he breathed, sitting up. “Completely?”

Hongjoong followed the motion, nodding, eyes still staring. “Yeah,” he said, chest tightening as he watched all the minute shifts of Seonghwa face that he had missing for over a week- 

Seonghwa looked like he was trying to keep calm himself. “Okay,” he said firmly. “Okay,” he looked around. “Okay, we need to go visit Yeosang and have him check it out. Make sure that nothing is still wrong. We- We should bring the p-” 

Hongjoong was suddenly in his lap, hands cupping Seonghwa’s face- before, to see him, but now, just to feel him- as Hongjoong pressed so close, their noses brushed. 

Hongjoong didn’t kiss him. Simply stared at him, drinking in every detail he had been deprived of. Every twitch in his expression, every jump in his muscles, every shift of his eyes- 

Hongjoong could see it all. 

And he could see exactly how Seonghwa’s shock weakened. Cracked. And then broke as relief crashed into both of them like an asteroid plain. Seonghwa laughed, weak and wet, his hands coming up to cradle Hongjoong’s face in disbelief. 

It didn’t matter how temporarily it had been taken, Hongjoong could  _ see _ . 

He pulled their lips together quickly, but his eyes didn’t flutter shut this time. 

This time, they stayed open. 

Watching, as Seonghwa’s eyes closed slowly, his expression gentle and desperate as he pulled Hongjoong closer by his hips. 

Hongjoong melted against him, pliant against his chest, feeling the urge to sob. 

“Thank you,” he breathed against Seonghwa’s lips, cinnamon eyes opening to stare back at him. “For standing beside me through it all.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes were misty. “What other place do I have on this ship?” 

“None,” Hongjoong assured him, chest aching. He watched Seonghwa’s eyes flicker and shift. 

He tried to imagine, for a moment, what it would have been like if Seonghwa hadn’t been there. If Hongjoong had just been left to his own darkness and fear and panic with no one to hold him, to ground him- 

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips. “I love you, Seonghwa, so fucking much-” 

Seonghwa dragged him down, Hongjoong following without complaint as his eyes fell closed on instinct, each press of lips loosening that thing in his chest that threatened to snap. 

“I love you, too, you insufferable idiot,” Seonghwa breathed, not even breaking the kiss. “You and all your stupid endeavors.” 

Hongjoong smiled against his lips, a little breathless, a little frantic. “It was my stupid endeavors that got you to fall for me in the first place.” 

“And you have no idea how  _ angry  _ I am about that,” Seonghwa muttered, shifting until he could lay back, Hongjoong resting on his chest and neither of their lips parting. 

Hongjoong kept his eyes open, watching everything, wanting to see everything. 

Wanting to see Seonghwa. In all his fucking beauty that rivaled space itself. 

“You know we do actually have to go see Yeosang,” Seonghwa muttered between kissing Hongjoong’s neck and jaw. 

“Yeosang can fucking wait,” Hongjoong decided, holding Seonghwa in place. 

Neither of them was going anywhere until Hongjoong was sure that he never forgot Seonghwa face as long as he lived. 

Not even if his sight, his sense, and his mind was taken from him. 

~~~~~~~

“You don’t regret meeting up with me, do you?”

“What brought this on?” 

“Nothing. Just… you know, like you said, you had a lot of opportunities open to you as a pilot.” 

“Opportunities that would have made me miserable.” 

“I mean, you have to admit… it’s nice out here, but we don’t have dental.” 

“Hongjoong, if I wanted dental insurance that badly, I would have turned you down all those years ago.” 

“You would have turned me down for  _ dental _ ?”

“ _ No _ , that’s why I came.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m just asking. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay. I don’t want you to regret wasting those opportunities-” 

“Hongjoong. All those opportunities may have had great dental and benefits… but none of them had you.”

“But they have dental.” 

“I don’t  _ care  _ about dental.”

“You brought it up.” 

“The  _ only  _ thing I care about is being able to stay beside you. That’s where I started, and if I have my way, that’s how I’m going to end, Hongjoong. Right beside you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another work complete!  
I almost split this into three parts, but I didn’t like where the breaks would fall so it’s two monster chapters lol~~  
Thank you for reading, please comment, and have a great day, lovelies!!!  
-SS

**Author's Note:**

> I have a twitter and a CC if you’re interested in chatting or have any questions!! Both are _SinisterSound_  
I’m awkward but I don’t bite!   
Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [a hope for silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779397) by [signifying_nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing)


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